These Are The Days

Tacos, Tears, and Tim Tebow

2012-02-19T13:00:00.000-05:00

Today's post is brought to you by the letter "T," which is altogether appropriate since I am terribly disappointed with certain weather forecasters who predicted a 'significant snowfall' for southern KY this Sunday. Alas, while we were sleeping, those sly little rats stripped our forecast of it's bliss by removing the winter weather advisories and warnings. We are left only to wake up to a nasty rain/sleet event and being completely ignored by the oh-so-happy weather people, greedily reporting on Virginia, where there IS snow. Terrible.

With that said, I'll continue with a random post so neatly packaged with title alliteration.

It will be a blast (and certainly make up for the sight of green grass as I look out the window.)

We have entered week 14, people. I can't tell you how thrilled we are - I vividly remember the nauseated nights of weeks 7, 8, etc. when I longed to just be further along, not only with the hope of feeling better, but also with a little bit more security that things were progressing and we were in less 'danger.' As anticipated, around week 12, I did begin to feel somewhat better. Evidently I became spoiled to my new state of being because when I woke up Friday not feeling well at all, I was unprepared. And it only progressively got worse. I quickly had a talk with Baby, explaining that it was week 14 and we could stop this nonsense, but apparently we were working on growing a bone or something massive because Baby did not cooperate and I fell more and more ill as the day wore on. As I was sitting at my desk dividing my day's tasks into Must Get Done and The World Won't End if This Doesn't Get Done piles, a horrid scent wafted into my room. It didn't take me long to figure out what this vile odor was.

TACO MEAT.

I have the nose of a blood hound anyway. (I can smell 1-day-bad milk when you open the refrigerator door, a talent I pride myself in.) Being pregnant has only served to intensify this to the point that Michael is convinced I am lacking in one of my other senses since my nose is so insanely keen. So when any smell that is even slightly pervasive to 'normal' people streaks by my nose, I'm usually drowning in it, gasping for fresh air.

This odor event was certainly as unwelcome as any. Already battling the Green Monster of nausea, I was not happy to recall that there was a fundraiser going on in our break room, in which a group of coworkers had decided they would have a taco bar for lunch in order to garner donations. That meant this wasn't a smell that was going to go away any time soon. Attempting to freshen the air would only make matters disgustingly worse. Shutting my door would trap and sour the odors that were already in the room. I was sunk. Figuring I only had my partial breakfast to lose, I broke down and took a Zofran, hoping to quell at least some of the nausea so I could withstand the smell. I wish I could say this little miracle pill came to my aid and I was able to enjoy the rest of my day, but it didn't. I struggled through a bland lunch, rested a little (away from the building and it's atrocious smell), and tiptoed through the rest of the afternoon just praying for 5 o'clock.

You can add tacos to the list of things I no longer eat.

Saturdays are always a welcome end to the week, especially so since I've been pregnant. Our DVR gets a pretty good work-out throughout the week and since staying awake past 8:30 is quite a feat, we often don't get to watch many shows until the weekend. So in true Saturday fashion, I was watching the previous night's Say Yes to the Dress Atlanta episode. (I will only watch SYTTD Atlanta because it's southern and usually much more entertaining than it's northern counterpart.) Anyway, there is always a sweet or sassy storyline that comes with each bride. In this episode, there was a bride named Hope who was getting married in a month and was on a tight budget. We learned in her intro that her fiancé had just been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease. Heartbreaking, to say the least. The show progressed and she revealed that she had wanted a beach wedding, but was settling for an outdoor wedding due to the timeframe, yet she still wanted a beach-inspired dress. With only a few options, she tried on a couple of dresses that were nice, but just not the one. Then the boutique's owner, Lori, brought in a dress that was perfect. Hope loved it, and after some persuading, her family couldn't deny how happy this dress made her and loved it too. Then came the issue of price. Turns out, the dress was half-off, but was still double her budget. At that moment, Lori revealed that she was going to give her the dress. For free.

I lost it. I cried right along with her family that had come with her to choose a dress. How precious to give such a gift to this girl who is providing so much hope to someone diagnosed with a fatal disease. Just when I had gotten myself together to watch the rest of the show, they showed a portion of Hope's wedding (where she looked like an angel) and the vows between her and her ailing love. I was a mess all over again. God bless that sweet couple.

And finally, I'm at least a month or so past due for making a post about my admiration for Tim Tebow. I am currently reading his book, which reads like a you're having a conversation with him, primarily about football and it's great. This guy is really unbelievable. Above all the hype of Tebow-ing and the scrutiny he's been under for winning or not, he's truly someone to admire. He has a work ethic that is unrivaled. He has spent all of his athletic career battling for the quarterback position because of his build ("he's built like a linebacker or running back, not a quarterback"), and his NFL career is proving to be no different. But most interesting to me is the story about how he came into this world.

He is the baby of five Tebow children. His father started praying for him, by name, before he was even conceived. His mother struggled through a horrible pregnancy in which doctors told her early on that due to her symptoms, it would have been best to abort the pregnancy. Knowing that was not an option, his family stuck it out and endured the trials of 9 long months. He was delivered a healthy baby, along with a blood clot as large as he was. He and his mother scientifically should not have survived the pregnancy, and the doctors appropriately called him a miracle baby. He now spends every day of his life living out the prayers his dad prayed before he was even thought of.

That's faith.

And the best part? Tim's birthday is August 14th. My current due date is August 16th. I know the likelihood of first babies coming early is slim to none, but it might be nice. Just a thought.

I must thank everyone for the kind comments, messages, Facebook posts, and cards celebrating our news. It is so exciting now that people know and can join in the joy with us! Thank you, and thank you for your continued prayers!

Now I'm going to pretend there is a soft blanket of beautiful white snow on the ground, make something warm and tasty, and enjoy my fake snow day. I hope you do too!

The Post I've Always Wanted to Make

2012-02-12T08:35:00.002-05:00

I have been thinking for weeks about how I can cleverly re-enter the blogosphere after such a long absence, but really there's nothing I can say other than I think you'll understand why I've been MIA for awhile when you see this:

Yes, believe your eyes, that's a POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST!!!!! We are 13 weeks along!!

It's been an amazing journey so far, and I still can't believe it's happening.

I don't really know where to begin to explain the last 9 weeks, it's been crazy and surreal and a little trying at times. We found out on a Saturday - December 10. I was a whopping 2 days late, but for me, that's extremely rare - if anything I'm usually early so I knew something was up. Curiosity finally got the best of me and my intuition was kicking in, so I decided to stop and pick up some pregnancy tests on my way home from running errands. I didn't expect much, so it didn't even cross my mind when I took the test at 1:00pm that Michael would not be home from work until 6 or after. Needless to say, I was shocked, thrilled, shocked, shocked, and shocked when the test came back positive. So what does one do, all alone holding a positive pregnancy test? I immediately thanked God and then cried. I thought of all the people I could call, and then I (thankfully) remembered I should probably tell my husband first! And then I did what I think every woman on earth does and took another test. It too was positive, so at that point, I figured this must be the real deal. There was nothing left to do but wait, so I tried to keep myself busy the rest of the day to pass the time. I talked to the dogs a lot that afternoon. I also plotted how I would tell my precious husband the best news he would ever receive.

I wrapped up the positive test as a pre-Christmas gift that
I just couldn't wait to give him. He had no idea.

Of course, in true I-hate-to-wait fashion, Michael got stuck at work and didn't get home until almost 8 O'CLOCK that night! I was almost a wreck by the time he finally made it home, but I was so excited about giving him such a special gift that it didn't matter.

He had to look at it several times before he realized what
he was looking at...

And then he gets it, and emotions overcome him.

Michael kept asking me, "Is this real?" in complete disbelief. Bless his heart, he didn't know what to say or do! We just sort-of floated through the rest of the night in shock.

One of the first things Michael started talking about was when/how we were going to tell my parents. At first, I was inclined to tell them immediately. But then I wavered as we talked about how we would tell them, thinking maybe we should wait a week, let me get further along, etc. But Michael was determined that he needed to tell someone, and we both decided that we needed mom’s prayer warrior skills especially during this time.

Still not totally convinced we would have an opportunity when I could assure mom’s undivided attention (so she would actually "get" what we were telling her), we toyed with the idea all the way to Glasgow to church. We don't normally go to church in Glasgow, but we were celebrating my brother's birthday and exchanging family ornaments (an annual tradition) on this Sunday (which happened to be a week later than we normally do.) Anyway, while we were at church, it came to me: It is the season of Advent. The first three Sundays of Advent are Hope, Peace, and Joy. This was the third Sunday, the celebration of JOY. Unbelievable. God chose to reveal himself to us in the form of a pregnancy blessing during the week celebrating JOY. I was overwhelmed with emotion as the first hymn we sang was “Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee!” HOW APPROPRIATE. That was played as the recessional at our wedding almost seven years ago, and it is the first musical experience since knowing that our lives are forever changed. It was almost too much for my poor unstable emotions to handle, especially since only Michael and I knew our little secret! I was so overcome with JOY, and I immediately had a peace about God’s plan for us and this tiny life. As my mind ran wild and a peace settled over me during the service, I began to think about how we could use this season of Advent as a way to tell my family. Being a day of gifts and ornaments, it came to me that we could pick up some plain ball ornaments and write our messages of Advent on them, but instead of the last one honoring love, it would announce our pregnancy. So, after the service, we ran to Walgreens and picked up the supplies. On the first ball I wrote (with a Sharpie, no less) “We are HOPEful,” on the second, “We are at PEACE,” on the third, “We are filled with JOY” and finally on the last one I wrote, “WE ARE PREGNANT!!!” I packed them into an appropriately-themed “Joyful” gift bag in layers, so that they would have to be unwrapped in order.

It was almost torture to wait through a long lunch then gifts and other ornaments before it was time for mom to unwrap the special gift addressed to her. She wasn’t at all suspicious, which was shocking to me, and of course, fumbled with the wrapping and I was afraid she would get them out of order. I nervously mumbled something about how this is our humble homage to the Advent season and how we can all be reminded of the season through these ornaments. She was delighted with the first one and in true mom fashion, she read them out loud as she opened each one. Finally (still unsuspectingly) she unwrapped the last one. I thought she almost dropped it when she realized what it said.

She had (luckily) handed me the camera before she opened the gift and I was able to get her priceless reaction, and then dad’s shouts of “Hallelujah!!!” It was so wonderful! After hugs and some tears, we quickly told everyone that it was very early on and that normally we would have waited to tell, but we knew we needed their prayers. We also quickly made sure that Payne and Graycen knew that this was a secret for awhile. They both sweetly grinned and agreed, bless their hearts. It was such a special time, and we were so thankful to know that we’re not the only ones on our knees praying for this tiny life.

Everything since then has kind-of been a blur. It didn't take long for the extreme fatigue and nausea to set in, making Christmas quite difficult, but it wasn't so bad. I spent most of January just surviving - I mean making sure I'm clean and dressed every day kind of survival. (Clearly blogging was not part of my survival routine.) I think I actually Googled "death by exhaustion" one day when I was quite certain I wasn't going to make it, but I'm not complaining. The worst of it seems to be over now, and I think I might finally be able to return to the land of the living soon and possibly start planning for August.

First ultrasound - 8 weeks

2nd Ultrasound - 12 weeks

We still cant't believe it. Even though we've seen our little bean twice now (thanks tilted uterus, you make a heartbeat difficult to find) I still spend a great deal of time explaining to myself that it IS real. The devil loves to play with this tiny bit of doubt and run rampant with my mind sometimes - I honestly think this has been the hardest thing to deal with for me. Learning to trust, wait, and believe is an ongoing test of my faith - one that I'm sure God is using to prepare me for not having control over anything anymore. Huge lesson for me to learn, but an important one to learn and the sooner the better.

Thank you to those of you who have walked this journey so far with us and we can't thank you enough for your continued prayers!

Christmas Memories

2011-12-30T22:10:00.001-05:00

Gauging by the flatline of inactivity on my blog and the fact that I have at least 348 emails from myself to myself containing blog material, I figured I better get a post in before the world collapses. Or something like that.
Anyway, as it happens every year, Christmas came and went far too quickly. Since I can remember, I've always been sad to see the last gift waiting to be opened because at that point, I know the day we've been preparing for for months is finally essentially coming to a close. (As it is right now, we're a one-shebang kind of Christmas family - we actually are still able to celebrate all together ON Christmas day.) But whether it be a sign of getting old or just flat out fatigue, this year really seemed to last a 'good long time.' I mean, with church and lunch and then gifts and eating again and so on, it was really quite a long-winded festive event. As we're cleaning up, we always comment about what a nice day we've had and how blessed we are, and this year, Michael kept saying, "any Christmas that lasts longer than a work day must be a good one." Indeed it was. We were given far more than we deserve, in more ways than one, and the day with family was an absolute blessing. Probably another possible sign of age, but I actually often find myself enjoying the quiet times of Christmas - my sentimental, nostalgic senses are on overload during the lull after dinner on Christmas Eve when we all just sit by the fire and enjoy each other's company; breakfast on Christmas morning when cinnamon rolls and ham biscuits taste their very best; and Christmas night, when all is well. It's so nice. I'm so fortunate to have and enjoy these times. Makes for good memories.

One thing I forgot to include in the post about our decorations is a new, very special decoration this year. We have several ornaments on our tree dedicated to our animals, but I wanted something that documented them specifically. Enter a kit that can be found at your local Walmart:

So, on Thanksgiving night, we followed the directions, mildly tortured the dogs, and created a lovely keepsake of our furbabies for 2011.

Christmas Decorating

2011-12-21T22:48:00.000-05:00

I have always loved to decorate. I used to get my own decorations and decorate my room when I was younger. Once, in elementary school, I talked my dad into getting me a live tree for our basement so I could decorate it, which he did. Happy as a clam, I decorated that tree with hand-made glitter and paint ornaments and paper chains that I made myself. I was so proud. In college, I would decorate my apartments from top to bottom (and would be SO annoyed if finals got in the way of my decorating plans.) Even when I was single, I still found the time and gusto to decorate. It was always something I looked forward to when Christmas rolled around. I really enjoyed it and was always pleased with the fruits of my labor, even if my roommates and my mom were ever the only ones to see all the hard work. After years of watching my mother, aunts, and cousins decorate every manageable surface for Christmas, often with multiple trees, I'm assuming I got that same gene which I have acted upon just about every year since. I think I burned myself out a few years ago when it took two - three full weeks to get everything done. I won't ever do that again. Maybe. But for whatever reason, this year I found it strangely difficult to decorate for Christmas. Not because I was sad or depressed or that I didn't have time or even that I didn't want to (quite the opposite in theory, thanks to Pinterest) but it just seemed to take every ounce of willpower to get the trees and boxes out of the attic. Possibly because part of me couldn't get over the whole "I'm going to do all of this work to look at it for a month and then spend a weekend cleaning and putting it away" issue. And then I got wracked by a migraine on the official decorating Saturday of the season (the Saturday after Thanksgiving), so maybe that had something to do with it. Or I could have just become a weekend slug, addicted to cheesy Christmas movies on Lifetime and the Hallmark channel. Whatever the case, it was a real feat to get the decorations out, so while they're not nearly what I had pictured in my mind (or found on Pinterest, for that matter) they'll do and I'm enjoying them all the same - I hope you do too!

A Simple Shoffner Christmas

The dining room - I think of it as an homage to the line "...We will bring Him silver and gold" from the song "Do You Hear What I Hear?"

Christmas china that we received as a wedding gift.

He posed himself.

Not satisfied with this, and yes, the garland is lighted. Is it plugged in? Nope.

My Nutcracker army of 41, a collection started 25 years ago.

The same army, now contained. You know, so they don't dance their way into Christmas havoc.

This is SO not what I pictured when I found my inspiration on Pinterest. I do love my stockings!

This year's addition to the collection.

And the tree. I love the lights reflecting in the window.

Abbie is absolutely convinced tree skirts are designed specifically for her nesting purposes.

Our sweet little tree in the master.

I wish I could say this was my grandmother's and it's very old and dainty, etc...but it's not. Pretty sure I got it at Kohl's a few years ago. But it matches our master decor, so it works.

So there you have it. In my mind, it was gorgeous. And trendy. And I had a tree in every room. It just didn't happen that way this year. But it will do. Jesus' birthday will still be just as special.

Christmas Tunes

2011-12-21T22:47:00.000-05:00

I have a real affinity for music. Especially Christmas music, probably because of the nostalgia attached to it. But when Christmas music is bad, it's B-A-D. Some Christmas tunes I love to hate:

Last Christmas, by ANY artist. I swear I think we heard this at least 400 times during our one and only 3-hour visit to the mall this year. And each time I wanted to grab a clothing hanger and jam it into my jugular. (Hmmm, that's a little excessive, but you get the point.)

The Christmas Shoes. Okay, okay, it's a sweet story, I get it. But the song is horrible - the melody and arrangement is just absolutely hideous, not to mention the performance.

All I Want for Christmas is You, by Mariah Carey and Justin Beiber (I think.) This should be banned from airtime on the radio for the warbling that commences at the end of the song. Heinous.

Where Are You, Christmas? I'm probably going to take a lot of heat for this, because ultimately it's a pretty nice song, and I do like the premise for it. However, the year The Grinch remake was released, it was my first year as a married gal and my dad was very sick in intensive care. Christmas was not at all the same that year, and just like the good nostalgia linked to songs from the past, the difficulty of that Christmas is forever linked in my mind to that song because, (as songs tend to do), it would always find a way to work itself on to the radio every time I was in the car driving to see my dad. Sad.

Santa Claus is Coming To Town, by Bruce Springsteen. A lovely little children's Christmas tune is RUINED by this rock performer. This should be sung at elementary Christmas pageants, not on a stage with a rock band. What, is he crying at the end when he can't even complete a full line of the song as he becomes so breathless? I don't get it. Come on, Bruce - bad choice.

Happy Xmas (War is Over) I don't care who sings this song or the sentiment behind its writing - I detest it. First of all, was it too difficult to spell out the word Christmas? Secondly, while Christmas is a time for celebration, it's a celebration of the birth of Jesus, not celebrating the triumph of men in a bloodbath. Christmas is about Jesus, let's sings songs about that joy.

The River, by Joni Mitchell. OH MY. Talk about exalting the lonely, cold-hearted, unfortunate side of the holidays...this song takes the cake. Much like Dolly's "Hard Candy Christmas" (which I have been hating since I was exposed to it as a child), this song talks about running away from the holidays altogether and how the hollowness of people is amplified during such a joyful season. Yikes. This song should come with a warning: Do not listen to this song while driving as it could cause an unexplained urge to drive into oncoming traffic.

So while that's my list of putrid songs that claim to be for Christmas, I will err on the joyful side of things and celebrate some Christmas music I LOVE:

I will forever love all of Michael W. Smith's Christmas albums, but his It's a Wonderful Christmas is indeed WONDERFUL. I LOVE every last track on this album! Every song is performed by a 67-piece orchestra and each is absolutely heavenly. It reminds me of my days in choirs and orchestras.

Christmas would not be Christmas without the soundtrack from The Nutcracker. I am the idiot who drives around listening to instrumental music in my car and I don't care. You can't listen to this music and not be happy.

Speaking of the nostalgia I referred to earlier, Amy Grant's A Christmas Album will always bring fond childhood memories flooding back. Every time I hear "Tennessee Christmas" I'm immediately 8 years old again. The Statler Brothers and the Oak Ridge Boys Christmas albums do that to me too. You can't go wrong with these country classics.

And new favorites and memory-makers are being born as Josh Groban's album Noel has become a staple as will Michael Buble's Christmas. These crooners make me swoon.

Light a Candle

2011-11-30T22:38:00.000-05:00

The holidays are challenging - for everyone in some form or fashion. Like I said in a post last year, our problems don't pack up and head to Florida for the holidays, they hauntingly stick around, trying to steal joy and ruin festive blessings. We've all experienced it. I've admittedly spent far too much time during holidays past sulking about my circumstances. And even though Michael and I are maneuvering some treacherous times right now, we are still extremely fortunate, especially in comparison to what others may be facing.
In years past, usually around Christmas Eve, I find myself wishing I had done more for people much less fortunate than myself (regardless of the nature of what my holiday season may have been.) My heart breaks for those that don't have a loving family to share a delicious meal with in a home warmed by a fire, those who are dealing with the terminal illness of a loved one, and most recently, the children who may never know the joy of all things Christmas. Without fail, even amidst my own warmth and joy, I look back with regret that I didn't choose one more Salvation Army angel, or donate more of my time serving others.
While we can only do so much to support donation-based charities and have limited time to serve outside of heavy work schedules, I prayed for God to show me a way we could help, in spite of these limitations. The answer came clearly.

Avalon's song, "Light a Candle" became one of my favorite songs several years ago when their Christmas album entered my regular rotation. It speaks volumes to what this season is truly all about. Then it hit me: correct me if I'm wrong, but in some religions, it is a common practice to light candles in a church for each person you pray for - the key is not the candle, but the prayer the candle represents.
I can pray. For free. And I'm going to.
Each day this Christmas season, I will diligently get on my knees as ask God to bless those that are experiencing loss, tragedy, illness, etc. I will pray for those who need God's transformation. And I will especially pray for those "children who need more than presents can bring." Please, if you know of a person, a family, or have an unnamed request, please email me your request and be confident that a prayer will be said for that person(s). Maybe you can do the same - a whole army of prayer warriors may just make a difference this Christmas, even if for one person.

Thankful

2011-11-24T00:40:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving Day comes, by statute, once a year; to the honest man it comes as frequently as the heart of gratitude will allow. ~Edward Sandford Martin

Pit Dwelling

2011-11-17T21:22:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in a bit. You can add that to your thankful list because unless you want to sit down at your computer for some good ole fashioned barkin' and moanin' then be glad I've withheld. At the same time, it's sad to me that someone as blessed as I am can say that. I really shouldn't have anything to complain about. I really should be so grateful for all of our blessings. And while I try diligently not to complain and to be as thankful as possible, sometimes my flesh gets the best of me and I fall flat on my face into self-pity, worry, and distrust. It's so destructive - to my relationships, my health, my job - everything. My faith shrinks until it's tiny, my body aches, my prayers hit the ceiling, and my joy is nowhere to be found. It's horrible. While I know all of these things, it seems I can't do anything to turn back around and regain the strength I need. That's where I've been - thrown back into a pit. It gets dirty down here. Wanna come play?

You, Lord, brought me up from the realm of the dead; you spared me from going down to the pit. - Psalm 30:3

All joking aside, I do have to admit that I'm tired. I'm tired of living in survival-mode. I'm tired of Murphy's Law applying to every single thing of every single day sometimes - just when we think the momentum has shifted and we're enjoying a tiny bit of life, something comes along and knocks the wind out of us and leaves us breathless, AGAIN. I'm tired of constantly having to work at everything; NOTHING is without constant attention and WORK. (I'm not a naturally positive, glass-half-full kinda gal...it takes a lot of work to smile all day, to hide the pain.) But most of all, I'm just tired of being tired.

But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. - Isaiah 40:31

I'm a smart person though - I know a lot of things: I know things could be much worse. I know that I have a family who loves and cares about me. I know God is much bigger than all of the things I struggle with. I know that I have received more blessing than I deserve. I know that those who believe, receive. I know that the Bible it says that God disciplines those he loves. I know he must love us A LOT.

As you know, we count as blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job’s perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy. - James 5:11

So by now you've probably figured out that our first round of Clomid was not a successful attempt. In fact, it was a big fat EPIC fail. I guess we keep trying. And hoping. We also have been reminded of the shroud of financial troubles from the now almost 3-year-old company closure that still haunt us. That's getting old, but it looks as if I'm going to have to suck it up, take it as it comes, and be as much support to my husband as possible. No time to be tired. It takes a lot of work to believe for miracles, but regardless of how much work it is and how dark this pit gets, I guess I'm still just crazy enough to keep believing.

If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer. - Matthew 21:22

I Got Nuthin'

2011-11-06T22:23:00.000-05:00

I realized it was November and I've planned more for Christmas than ever before, but have accomplished suprisingly little toward those plans.

Football season is at it's peak. I inherently think it is my duty to attempt to watch/listen to/keep up with every game. For some reason. (CATS win! TOPS win! TEBOW WINS! BAMA...er, well...it was an interesting game.)

The time changed. Good for many reasons, but namely because now I won't be driving directly into the sun on my way home.

Looking back on the past couple of weeks, I've felt remarkably "normal." I'm very thankful for this. Michael is too.

Our weekend was unexpectedly busy, but in a good way - so much so that when I sat down tonight I couldn't even remember what I meant to have accomplished by today. I'm sure blogging was one of them. So that's why I'm blogging. About nothing.

I am so unbelievably torn up about my first "class" at work tomorrow. Months of preparation and I feel so unprepared, nervous, and ill-equipped. I dreamed last night that I had to perform 4 different interpretive dances, one using Christmas lights as a prop, to be judged by an interesting panel of celebrity judges with just minutes to prepare. I blame my job-induced worry/panic for such a dream.

I need to organize my Pinterest boards, as they do not come close to reflecting my interests. Maybe that was one of the things I was supposed to get done.

After all the aforementioned worrying about work, I have failed to capitalize on the joy that is having a four-day week to look forward to this week. That certainly puts a positive spin on all the fretting...

So I hope all of you are enjoying your November! Don't get so wrapped up in Christmas preparation that we forget about the glory of this season of Thanksgiving. (It's as much a reminder to myself as anything else.) I'm thankful for so much. SO MUCH. God is so good.

Some Traditions Die Hard

2011-10-30T21:46:00.003-04:00

I wasn't going to do it.
I wasn't going to write a post about marching band - particularly Glasgow High School's marching band. I just wasn't going to do it. With the whole uniform debacle last year, emotions were just too high that I didn't feel I could appropriately and adequately express my feelings on the topic without sounding like an antiquated die hard. I didn't feel like I could express in written word how rich the tradition of the Glasgow Scottie Band marching in plaid kilts truly is. I didn't want to distort my own memories with the opinions of others who were in the thick of said debacle. And, others wrote blog posts to end all posts on the topic, so I couldn't justify my time doing so. But my passion has forced me to give in.

To be quite honest, my opinions on the topic wavered. I mean, I can see both sides - I'm not so narrow-minded to believe that perhaps the face of competitive marching band has changed so drastically that the Scottish uniform could genuinely be causing problems resulting in lowered scores. I'm perfectly aware that sometimes things have to change and traditions have to be modified. And truthfully, with the rocky era that was 2000-2010 in GHS marching band, dare I say perhaps the uniform had slightly been tarnished and the respect and admiration for the kilt had faded. So maybe it was time for a change. I could deal with that. And lo and behold, they win the state championship in class AA last year. Point taken.

*Let me first say this before I go any further - the uniforms alone did not win them the championship. The director worked his tail off getting the fundamental marching elements up to par and more importantly, taught the kids how to play like a chamber group on the least intimate settings of all music performance (a football field). Did the uniforms help? Possibly - there were a lot of body movements, leans, shifts, etc. that may or may not have been as effective in a kilt. Whatever the case, the entire quality of the band reached a new level in all areas - performance, attitude, presentation, and ahem, maybe even tradition. It seemed our answer to the call to attention (everyone say it together - PRIDE!) was back in full force, even without the kilts. I thoroughly commend everyone who played a part in last year's modification movement - I think it's safe to say that with a Governor's Cup on your shelf, it was a successful one.

However, with all that said, I sit here today with mixed emotions on the topic once again. Yesterday, I was carrying on with my regular Saturday activities when it dawned on me that the state band championships were being held right here in Bowling Green, at WKU, which meant that preliminary competitions were going on all over this region. After two seconds of internet searching, I found that the AA prelim was being held right down the road at Greenwood High. Glasgow marched in the 16th position. Out of 16 bands. At 3:15. Now if I know anything about anything, I know that 16th is a PRIME draw and not only did it suit my schedule (since I was just realizing all of this at lunch time) but it would all but guarantee them one of the top four spots in the finals competition. I had to go. It was my duty as a Glasgow High band alum.

Sparing the details of the day for the sake of a far too lengthy post, I went, paid the outrageous $10 to get in (to see 5 bands perform and hear the announcement of the top 4), and cheered with everyone as Glasgow was announced as a finalist band. I was almost as excited as I had been as a band member myself. I loved it. My pride was definitely in tact. I quickly convinced my overworked, non-former-band-member husband that he needed to accompany me to finals at WKU and he obliged.
We arrived at WKU in time to see the beginning of the class AA finals competition. We got excellent seats (much to the surprise of my husband who thought I was crazy when I told the ticket guy "I want the highest seats we can get.") The competition was stiff. Kind-of. I was a bit...um, confused I think. Marching band has changed. I mean some things stay the same: most all bands still work a rotating box into their drill; the show cycle of a stirring opener, a 'slow piece,' and building, crowd-engaging closer is still maintained; and impeccable musical balance and clean lines are still a direct goal. But so much else has changed: entering the field to a synthesized beat booming through on-field speakers was seemingly the norm. (Um, bagpipes anyone? ) The use of recorded voice-overs during the performance is really popular. Moveable props, lifts, banners, and outlandish color guard drill was almost an absolute. And the days of an on-field warm-up is over - no West Coast Warm-ups; no fight songs. From the second the pit crew drives up, the 'show' begins. It was odd, but I can take it, and in some cases I liked it.
Glasgow took the field at 7:30. They performed well. Their music was high-quality and high-difficulty. Check. Their marching was clean, intricate, and stylistic to the show. Check. The color guard was small, but delivered a story line VERY well. Check. Overall, it was a solid performance. One to certainly be proud of.

I wasn't moved. They even played one of my all-time favorite pieces, 'Nessun Dorma' from Puccini's Turandot (that I performed with the wind ensemble at WKU under Dr. John Carmichael - GLORY! - and was played at our wedding) and while impressive in it's own right, I was still somewhat unmoved. (Video above. Check out my mad skills videoing from an iPhone.)

But again, I just wasn't moved. Perhaps it was because it was quite chilly sitting in those stands (my poor parents endured 4 years of such torture). Maybe it was because I had developed a migraine during the afternoon. It could have been because the lovely people behind us wouldn't quit talking. Or maybe...maybe I missed the kilts.

For those of you who don't understand the history of the GHS band, our uniform was a full, 12-piece traditional Scottish uniform, complete with sporans made from real horse hair and 100% wool tartan and kilt. With 70-100 people in such attire, it commanded attention, if anything because it was so different. It sparkled under the lights of a stadium. It. Was. Awesome.

Left - First time I put on the uniform for competition; Right - Final time getting ready for competition

But the uniform alone wasn't the point. It was the history behind every single kilt - each person that ever wore it - each performance that ever took place in that kilt - every place those kilts had been - all of that was carried down from generation to generation in a single garment.

When the decision came down that Glasgow could not be considered a competitive marching band in today's environment because of the distraction of the sporan movement, the way the kilt hid knee movement and body delay, and because the limitations of range of movement the kilt held, it caused quite a stir. It was subsequently announced that the band would still march parades and perform at events in the Scottish uniform, so it wasn't like they were putting all of the kilts on Ebay or something, but it was still a drastic change. Like I said above, I get it. Honestly, that uniform was designed for marching in a parade setting, not running from the 20 yard line to the 50 in eight counts. I get it.

BUT, I do think the new, 'standard' uniform could have been designed so much better. I cried when I first saw it. It's black. It's dull. It has very little semblance to the former uniform. It looks like Adair County's uniform without the reflective 'A' triangle on the crossbelt. It looks like a uniform for any 'ole run-of-the-mill band. Not Glasgow.

Formerly when Glasgow took the field, there was NO QUESTION who it was. Oh, plaid kilts? That's GLASGOW. Love it or hate it, it was part of our legacy. Our claim to fame. Not only did we sound great and march great, we were unforgettable. People who had never seen us before would go away from seeing us perform talking about us and write us letters about our performance. It didn't matter if we didn't peform at top condition - we were GLASGOW and we looked GOOD. Recognizable. Authentic. Unimitated. Take all that away, and it's like putting the New York Yankees in solid white uniforms with no pin stripes, or sending the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders on to the field in tennis shoes and t-shirts instead of their boots and tied scarf tops. Sure, the Yankees may still win the pennant, and the Cowboys' Cheerleaders will still do their infamous kickline with razor-sharp precision, but it's just not the same. It's not tradition.

That's not the case anymore, but it didn't have to be that way. The new uniform could have been designed with respect to the new way of doing things, allowing the band to be more flexible in pants, but with stand-out features that stirred similar emotions as the plaid kilts did. There is very little plaid on the uniform. Plaid could have been infused ALL OVER the jacket - the sleeves, tails on the jacket, an attached tartan on the back, something. Who said they had to wear those crazy hats with plumes - what was wrong with the balmorals? I'm sure those were not affecting the scores. And for crying out loud, what went with the spats? If you're wanting to draw attention to your impeccable marching, put WHITE spats between those black pants and black shoes and there you have it, all the while paying homage to a former piece of the old uniform. Something that screams GLASGOW, but allows for all the flexibility of a standard uniform. Oh, and please, please, why not put the field commander in the full Scottish ensemble? She was in a prom dress last night and it made NO sense to me. SO sad.

Top - State Finals 1995; Bottom - State Finals 2011

I'll say it again, I am so very proud to be a Glasgow High School alumni band member whether they're wearing kilts or jeans and t-shirts. But the tradition is lacking. The visual ambience is sorely disappointing. I'll go as far to say that last night's show possibly would have been better with the Scottish uniforms. But whatever the case, I'll always support the Scottie Band and their new budding tradition of being a consistent championship-winning band. They certainly have the talent for it. In the meantime, I will always be so thankful for the memories of my experience of marching in the kilts. And I will try not to be sad those championships are being won in a uniform that just anyone could wear.

A Tech-Savvy God

2011-10-26T19:09:00.003-04:00

I was cruising Twitter on my phone during lunch the other day and stumbled on a retweet by someone that led me to Lil' Light O’ Mine, a website with a new blog. The post I was directed to was a beautiful, touching infertility story (of all things.)

Okay, you’ve got my attention.

Then today, a new post about waiting and God’s timing in EVERYTHING.

Um, is someone recording my life and saying, “here, Cissy, here’s some hope, a little strength, and a dab of comfort for you to know that you’re not alone in your struggles?”

Already a blessing, this blog and subsequent website popped up out of ‘nowhere’ essentially (as most blogs do, I suppose) on a day when I needed renewal so desperately that I actually avoided my usual outlets for motivation and couldn’t find any solace in my go-to readings; a day when I was questioning my motives and had concerns about blogging altogether (more to come on that); a day when I needed something NEW to speak to my heart when I was all but slamming the door on God’s promises. He knew how to reach me, how to permeate my hardening heart in a relatable way, even if it was via social media. He reached down to my then unknowing mind and spoke through someone else’s words to reach my heart and draw me close to Him. It’s not that this hasn’t happened before – God loves to show up in unexpected ways in my life. Heck, I met my wonderful, precious husband online, so I know that God isn’t scared of technology. But I am so thankful He did it again, when I was wounded, crushed, and losing grip on the knot I have tied and re-tied at the end of my rope. So thankful.

True Colors

2011-10-21T21:35:00.001-04:00

I won't go into another dissertation about how much I love all-things-fall - everyone is well aware. But I have to say, it's possible that my love of fall goes beyond just the aesthetics maybe because I'm an October baby (today's October baby as a matter of fact) or maybe just because it's a 'nature' that people refer to. Whatever the case, I had a bit of an epiphany.

When I was getting my hair done the other day, my stylist, who is of course aware of our bout with infertility kept apologetically asking questions and saying, "I'm sorry" as I was updating her on the last few weeks. It dawned on me that I had an opportunity here - I can wallow and go on and on about how upsetting this battle is sometimes, or I can honor the truth that God's plan is where our hearts are and choose to admit the pain, but talk about the joys of our journey instead of the not yet reached destination. I have long known the sermons, adages, and even cliche's that spawn from the premise of character - that it's what we are when we're under pressure that makes us who we are.

Hmmm. Much like the trees that are changing...~~the colors~~ the beautiful, vibrant, elaborate colors of the trees that are revealed in autumn are actually the TRUE color of the leaves - it's the process of photosynthesis that causes the green color of leaves in spring and summer, but small amounts of the reds, yellows, etc. were present in the leaves all along.

I know everyone already knows that, but it never dawned on me that maybe my love for the revelation of the true colors in fall is just a reflection of my own longing to be as true to what God wants to reveal as my true colors as I possibly can. I would like one day to be considered as beautiful for my true colors as the trees are for theirs. What an honor that would be - and what a ton of work on my part to get there. But, with every choice to be honest and transparent that I have, I can slowly work my way there - God's doing the rest.

Peanut M&M's, please

2011-10-18T23:12:00.001-04:00

A little story:
Sunday after church, Michael and I ran errands. One of our stops was at Target, and on the list to buy were autumn peanut M&M's.
*Allow me to interject that these M&M's go in a candy dish on our side table in the living room. I made the cardinal sin of putting both plain AND peanut M&M's in said dish because sometimes I like a little more chocolate than peanut, but not Michael - he wants all peanut. Every time I would dig around in the dish for a peanut M&M, I would hear some comment from him like, "Honey, why would you put plain M&M's if you wanted peanut ones?" or "Looking for a peanut one, babe?" (Clearly he doesn't understand my method.) So after a few weeks of this madness, and an empty candy dish, I was determined to purchase ONLY peanut M&M's.
Back to Sunday...
I looked for the candy at Target and they were either out, or I just couldn't find them and asked Michael to remind me to get them at Kroger. We had a whole conversation about peanut M&M's. So, at our grocery run, I made sure to scour the candy aisle for the Peanut M&M's. We're standing among all of the Halloween candy in the seasonal aisle, Michael manning the cart, and sensing that I was struggling, my dear sweet husband asked,
(you know what's coming...)
"What are you looking for?"
Really?
Without hesitation or any obvious control, I practically shout, "I'm looking for PEANUT M&M's!" right there in the middle of the grocery store.

I think it's sufficient to say that I'm a little edgy these days. And it's about to get worse because I just took my first dose of Clomid.

That's right. We're off to the races and officially part of the Infertility Drug Club. My doctor's appointment today was 3 hours long, complete with an overview of the lovely past 10 weeks of roller coaster recovery from surgery, blood work, a meeting with the dietician (who completely sold us on Juice Plus), and three prescriptions. I got my money's worth today. And I still love my doctor - she's a-w-e-s-o-m-e.

So, hopefully this new journey with a little white pill leads us to a wonderful reward. I'm still very aware of the chances that the Clomid won't work (believe me) but at the same time, I've got to stay positive. God has blessed us with so much, and we both certainly feel that we were led to this decision.

And since this lovely little pill is notorious for causing mood swings, it looks as though we're going to have to get used to more peanut M&M incidents.

Poor Michael.

Just Smile

2011-10-13T21:21:00.000-04:00

Since my last post was...well, rather grim, I thought I would share a couple of videos that have made me smile over the past few days. It's been another rough week. But instead of further brooding about it, I decided laughter would be the best medicine, at least for now (I go back to the doctor next Tuesday) so until then, I hope you enjoy these as much as I did.

This first one was posted on MSN the other night and Michael and I are still laughing about it. This dog could DEFINITELY be part of our family, as we've had more than similar experiences with our own dogs.

And these little girls featured on the Ellen show on Wednesday are just too precious for words. I wish I could bottle the joy and enthusiasm of little Sophia Grace. Just priceless. Be sure to watch when the cameras pan to their parents.

How can you NOT smile?!
Have a GREAT weekend!

October 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7...

2011-10-05T20:37:00.000-04:00

I no longer recognize the day of October 5. I apologize to any of you who celebrate a birthday on this day, as I learned today that it is the most popular birthday in America (due to it's correlation with New Year's Eve), but as far as my calendars go, it will no longer be recognized as a day. I haven't quite figured out how that's going to work, but I'll think of something by 10-5-12 because I refuse to endure the pain that October 5 inevitably seems to bring. You see, for the last three years running, October 5 has unfailingly been one of the most painful days of our year, for whatever reason. For the sake of others, I don't want to go into detail, but trust me when I say if you had walked in my shoes on these days in 2009, 2010, and today, you would agree. I'm hoping that the whole "things come in 3's" adage applies here because I'm done with the dark October 5 omen in my life.
Since I won't go into detail and since my best expression is through music anyway, below are two songs that sum up my feelings. The first is Josh Groban's "Remember When it Rained" and oddly enough, this song came on when I pulled into my garage this afternoon (where I then sat and sobbed.) It is one of my all-time favorite songs and a go-to piece when I take time to sit at the piano. I'm not sure if the 'person' he's speaking of is a girl, but to me, it's a cry to God. Whatever the case, it's cathartic and definitely reflects the pain I feel so deeply.
The second song is my light - the force that keeps me going. It's Chris Tomlin's "I Lift My Hands" and it not only represents my praise and gratitude for God's mercy in my life but also my soul's surrender that it's His plan, His timing, His will I seek.

I ask that those of you who are praying for me (us) please continue to do so.

It's Fall Y'all!

2011-09-25T22:44:00.001-04:00

Friday, it officially became FALL! I've been holding out on posting about it actually being fall because sometimes even though the calendar says it's fall, the temperatures are always going back and forth around here. But after looking at this week's forecast, I'm going to believe that summer got the memo that Labor Day is it's unofficial end and this whole "Indian Summer" notion has ended. (I've never really understood what that is anyway.) So I'm determining that it is in fact the wonderful, dreamy season of autumn and welcome my boots, scarves, and long sleeves out of hiding. I can bid farewell to that peachy-salmon summery color that looks horrible on me. I can buy candles that boast of cinnamon and pumpkin spice. I can unabashedly enjoy football season. I can enjoy the lull of everything slowing down a bit before the inevitable fast-paced swing of the holidays begins.

There are several things I'm excited about this fall:

1 - New fall fashions!
I'm certainly NOT a fashion trend follower and would not top many people's "Best Dressed List" but this fall, some preppy favorites are coming back, and I'm thrilled!

GAP

BLAZERS!

I can wear blazers with the best of 'em, even when wearing them is not in style, so that they're coming "back," all the better.

J CREW

COLORED PANTS!

I get so tired of black, brown, and navy pants. I love color-blocking with solids and love the un-ordinary aspect colored pants add to a wardrobe.

And some of my FAVORITE prints are back for fall fun:

PLAID!

HERRINGBONE!

POLKA DOTS!

2 - Fall FOOD!

I'm so excited about fall food and can't wait to try these recipes:

Apple Coffee Cake with Honey-Maple Glaze

Chili in Biscuit Cups

Fabulous Football Dip

Cinnamon Pumpkin Muffins

Don't those all sound deliciously warm and comforting for fall?!

3 - Autumn Decor

I probably won't get around to doing many of these, but I LOVE the ideas for cute autumn decorating:

And last but not least, fall marks the return of all our favorite TV shows!

Survivor - predicted winner: OZZY!

The Amazing Race - predicted winners: Ethan and Jenna

Dancing with the Stars - early favorites: Chynna Phillips and David Arquette

The X Factor - haven't watched enough to pick an early winner

And of course, the non-reality shows: The Office, Community, Modern Family, Glee

So go get out a great scarf and breathe in the fresh, crisp air - HAPPY FALL!!!

"I Identify with Cartoons"

2011-09-18T13:35:00.000-04:00

I record "Live with Regis and Kelly" everyday, and on Tuesday, Kelly was talking about taking her children to the premier of the re-release of The Lion King 3D. She went on and on about what a great movie it is and how much her children enjoyed it and then mentioned how when the music begins, she dared anyone not to choke up. Regis poked fun at her and she ended the pestering with, "I identify with cartoons, okay? There, I said it!"

Well, I'm with Kelly! The Lion King has long been one of my favorite movies - and now musicals - of all time. I was in middle school when the cartoon movie was released, but I didn't care - I knew and loved the music before the movie debuted. I can remember going to theater with a few obliging friends to see the movie and enjoyed every minute and have loved it ever since. Then, during the holidays 2006, my parents took our family to see the musical and I was even more enamored with the live production and pageantry. I remember (just as Kelly said) getting choked up when the music started for the fanfare of Simba's presentation and thinking to myself, "oh good grief, you can't cry at the very beginning..." but that event is one of my favorite memories. It's just such a moving story and score, how can anyone not love it?

I may just have to steal my neice and nephew and take them to see it during these two weeks that it's in theaters...

Ten Years Ago

2011-09-11T16:05:00.002-04:00

I was in a college classroom waiting on a professor that was never late. We were all debating on whether or not we should leave when the professor came running into the room telling us what had happened. At that time, no one knew it was the act of terrorists, but immediately after class, we all huddled around a TV in one of the student centers and watched the second plane hit. I muddled through the rest of the day in a fog, called my mom a lot, and then my roommate and I went to a church service that evening. We were totally stunned and stayed up most of the night watching the news coverage.

I hesitated to do a September 11 memorial post because nothing I could ever say would come close to pay tribute to the tragedy, but when I saw that this commercial was re-released after only airing once during the Super Bowl, I just had to share. It moves me to tears every time I watch it, but it is so special and appropriate.

I'm so proud to be a citizen of a country that recovers, but that day will never be forgotten. May there be peace for those that live with the effects of this day, every day.

A Little Before and After

2011-09-04T13:05:00.003-04:00

I've been telling you for months how busy we've been. I finally took time to take some pictures of the transformation. After a few minor changes and lots of planning beginning in April, the real work started on July 1 with the kitchen cabinets, then painting, then flooring. Everything was back in livable condition literally the day before my surgery and it was time for a break. We are not finished with everything (we need a chair here and touch-up paint there) and after looking at the pictures, I will probably change a few things, but with the holidays fast approaching I wanted to get some early pictures before holiday decorating begins. Also after seeing the pictures, the changes are unbelievable to me! I can't believe we lived with SO MUCH furniture crammed into one room and how dark everything was. I also can't believe that just Michael and I pulled this off and didn't keel over in the process. It's completely different and we're thrilled to death with the results and are very excited to wrap up the final changes.

I made the cardinal sin of not taking enough BEFORE pictures, so you'll just have to use your imagination for the kitchen, although I did include the only picture that was taken in the kitchen for reference sake at least - hopefully it's not too horrifying!

THE KITCHEN - BEFORE

BEFORE: October 2010

BEFORE: Beginning prep work

AFTER:

THE LIVING ROOM - BEFORE

AFTER:

Sunday Night

2011-08-28T20:13:00.000-04:00

It's taken me all weekend to get through a Real Simple magazine.
There is still a maze of clean laundry on the guest bed.
We still have (small) touch-ups to completely finish our renovation marathon.
My lists are still fairly neat as relatively few things have been marked off of them.

But I have taken a nap, watched 4 movies, played with my dogs, grilled out, and laughed with my precious husband.

And said precious husband and I are getting ready to go get some fro-yo as a reward for changing the sheets and doing the dishes.

I refuse to succumb to the Sunday Night Syndrome that attacks more people than you would think (even Regis Philbin and Kelly Ripa, who clearly have the best jobs in the world have mentioned their own invariable anxieties that relentlessly come on Sunday nights.) I'm going to be happy and satisfied with my weekend. I'm going to keep my record of a whole seven days without a meltdown. I'm going to be grateful for everything we have.

It's been a good weekend. Have a great week!

And the Follow-up

2011-08-21T21:43:00.000-04:00

My snuggle buddy

So my follow-up appointment was Wednesday. What an event that was...

I have to first make a point that this week has been a roller-coaster of emotions for me. Last night after yet another meltdown and being purely exhausted from my own ups and downs, I told Michael, "it must seem like you're living with Sybil." Hopefully it's not been quite that bad, but my poor husband has had his hands full with me this week. So when my follow-up appointment rolled around, I don't think I was quite as prepared as I would have liked to be. I did not have my type-A list of questions prepared, I was crazed from work, and after all, the hard part (surgery) was over, so as long as my incisions were healing like they should be, I was all good, right?

Well, I was all good. Even better than I thought.

My incisions, swelling, etc. all looked good and I seemed to be healing well. I got to see lots of gross pictures that didn’t look anything like what I remember from my high school health book. As it turns out, I had A LOT of aggressive endometriosis on my uterus and ovaries, and some on the abdominal wall. My doctor was pleased that the surgery was successful in the fact that she was able to remove everything she found since it wasn’t on any other vital organs, and felt confident that I should feel better soon. Great!
She then emphasized that I would be most fertile after my next cycle, and that as soon as I felt up to it, my prescription was to start trying again – that she would like to see a positive pregnancy test within the next couple of months.
...um, gasp...
I’m glad we had gotten most of the informational portion of appointment out of the way already because at this point, she may as well have been singing show tunes to me because I was totally gone – my mind was running 100 different ways and I could barely even focus when she was asking me if I had any other questions. She said that pregnancy is the only sure-fire way to prevent the endometriosis from coming back and that while she likes me, she doesn’t want to have me on the operating table every two years. That was the last thing I heard.

Okay - I knew the whole purpose of this surgery was improved fertility, but I guess I was expecting to hear something more along the lines of, “So, let’s see how we do for the next 6 months to a year and then we’ll come back to the table to review some options if there still hasn't been a pregnancy.” Nope. Get preggo by Thanksgiving or we’re going to the next option.

Don't get me wrong, I was completely elated. Unfortunately, my analytical mind was on overload and I ended up freaking out about all the possibilities, what may or may not be, what-ifs about babies and pregnancy and work and money…I was total wreck. Michael was so supportive - we talked through it and prayed about it, and I was better - for the most part. I still couldn't get over the timing and 'rush' of everything. I had to keep reminding myself that even with doctor's orders, God is still in charge and His timing will prevail, regardless.

I didn't have long to worry about everything because the next day I was back in horrible pain - the surgery had jump-started my next cycle and I was so sick. So much for 'feeling better' - it was like my insides were angry with me and wanted to get in one (hopefully final) punch. I don't remember Friday and I rested most of the day yesterday. I'm finally feeling partially back to normal today, both physcially and emotionally. I'm sure Michael is thankful.

Rebounding

2011-08-14T13:16:00.000-04:00

As it would happen, I go on a month-long blog hiatus and more happens during that month than has happened all summer! I have a lot to cover in the next few posts but for now, I'm still rebounding - or more appropriately, recovering.
I had an appointment with a new gyno on July 14. She came highly recommended and I was getting to a point where I knew something was going to have to be done - beyond the infertility issues, I was just not well. Monthly cycles were getting worse and worse and starting to cause more problems, so I reluctantly scheduled the appointment, thinking I was going to end up with the same frustrating results as before along with another attempt at covering the problem with fertility drugs. I couldn't have been more wrong. This doctor was wonderful, asking questions and actually listening to my answers. It was clear from the beginning that her goal was to treat me, and whatever problems I was experiencing first and foremost, then based on my issues, deal with the infertility as necessary. After a lengthy chat about my history of ovarian cysts and an exam, it didn't take long for her to suspect endometriosis.
Oh dear, another ugly word.
I didn't want to hear that, but at this point, I can't say I was surprised. She explained to me the problems endo can cause, and my symptoms were lining up perfectly. Unfortunately, the only way to diagnose and effectively treat endo is through surgery. So after weighing the options of 'guessing' at treatments and most likely prolonging everything for months or diving right into surgery to find and possibly treat the main problem, with the help and suggestion of my doc we decided that surgery was the best option.
My surgery was scheduled for August 10th, and after that, everything was a blur. Between work, home renovations, and preparing for surgery that was going to knock me out for at least a few days, time flew. Michael and I were beyond exhausted trying to get the house to a 'finished' point so I could come home to a comfortable place after surgery (pictures of that to come later.) It wasn't only crazy for us: since my doctor is in Glasgow, my surgery was there, so my mom worked herself into a frenzy trying to get ready for school to start and preparing for a patient since I would come 'home' to her house for a couple of days to recover. We were all actually ready for the much-needed break when I went in last Wednesday.
Everything went really well for the surgery - TJ Samson Hospital was wonderful. I was well-prepared and felt very taken care of. I remember a lot of details about going into surgery and waking up, especially when my doctor came to tell me the good news (yes, good) that I did in fact have endometriosis and that she was able to treat much of it. My biggest fear was that we would go through all of this for nothing - that she wouldn't find anything. Fortunately the results were desirable and hopefully this is the beginning of a promising recovery on many levels, including improved fertility.
While I'm glad there was a positive outcome, it hasn't all been a piece of cake: anesthesia is never fun and recovering from that is always difficult for me. The pain has been manageable (it was laproscopic surgery, so I have 3 small incisions instead of one large one) but the soreness has lingered much longer than I expected. My hormones are clearly out of whack, as evidenced from a day-long meltdown yesterday. And returning to "normalcy" is proving a little more difficult than I anticipated - with hormones heightened, everything is a tragedy. (I will laugh at this one day, but not today...) The welcomed stall in everything last week is now a very UNwelcome lack of motivation! I'm trying to stay positive, remembering all of the good things that have come of this, and take just one day at a time to get back in the swing of things. I'm praying people will be patient with me as I readjust. Maybe I should ask for prayer for my patience as I readjust...

My favorite flowers and a card from my sweet husband

I can't say a big enough "thank you" to my parents, Michael, and my friends - especially Amy! - who helped me so much this week. I'm so very blessed to have such sweet people to care for me when I need it most.

A Pretty Blog (on hiatus)

2011-07-16T09:44:00.001-04:00

It's been a long time coming, but thanks toFaith at A Design of Faith, my much-needed blog facelift is complete! I'm so pleased with what Faith did - she was incredibly easy to work with and so reasonably priced. My own indecisiveness was the biggest hurdle for me to overcome, but I'm so very pleased with the outcome!
THANK YOU, FAITH!!!

My new pretty blog makes me want to post more often, but because we are completely consumed with paint, flooring, and all the updates on our house along with all the other stuff of life, I just can't do it all and keep up with regular posts. (I'm sure this is devastating for the three of you who regularly read this.) However a complete tour of all we've done around the house will be coming up, so hang in there!

My (Summer) Guilty Pleasures

2011-06-15T22:24:00.001-04:00

I'm not a typical summer-lover.
Yes, yes, summer has it's perks - abundant sunshine, colorful flowers and fruit, barbecues - yes, it's all nice.
But it's also HOT. And muggy. And summer just isn't nearly as fun as an adult as it was as a kid. (Walking in the scorching afternoon heat to a oven-temperature car in my work clothes after a long day is not my idea of "fun in the sun.")
But I have found ways to cope. Here are just a few:

It was dubbed the movie to mark the official start to summer (a little early): the fifth installment of The Fast and the Furious movies, Fast Five. I've seen them all, and this one is by far the best! It's fast cars and hot guys in the smut-filled capital of Rio de Janeiro with lots of action and lots of sweat. Just the right combination for a good summer action flick - all while I enjoy my popcorn in a nicely air-conditioned arena.

It's almost the only summer TV show worth watching: So You Think You Can Dance. I love this show. It's really a unique showcase for dance artistry (when it's good), and when it's bad, it's just plain funny, so really, it's a whole package of summer entertainment right in my living room every week. Beautiful.

And finally, the addiction that I reluctantly (and tardily) caught on to, Angry Birds. Why is this game so addicting? I never thought I would want to squash a pig so badly. But thanks to the hours of entertainment and sore eyes this game has caused me, I'm probably going to end up in Angry Birds Anonymous very soon.

I'll try to get outside and enjoy some real summer activities, but rest assured, on 95+ days, I'm seeking air-conditioning as quickly as possible.

Love Languages

2011-06-10T21:36:00.002-04:00

Since our marriage is the one thing in our lives right now Michael and I feel like is up to us, and since we determine the development, enjoyment, and rewards of being married, we are working very hard to make it the best it can possibly be while we're just US. This has been a long time coming though.

I don't normally do book reviews because quite frankly, I just don't read enough to review anything. But, the concept of this book, The Five Love Languages, has changed our marriage. I'll be honest, I had heard about this book before and completely dismissed it as another attempt for some guy to sell books. Then I heard a radio broadcast from Dr. Chapman one morning that revolutionized the way I thought about the book, marriage in general, and specifically OUR marriage.

The first few years of our marriage were not what I had expected. First of all, I was not what I had expected. Thanks to some unidentified and misunderstood chemical imbalances (enter birth control and misc. anti-depressants), I was unbearable. I couldn't stand myself, so I can't imagine what it was like for my poor husband, our families, and any friends who stuck around during this time to even try to make it through a few hours with me. (I'm sorry.) On top of that, marriage itself had some let-downs of it's own. Marriage is not easy. It doesn't come naturally. It is work. I can't tell you how many times I argued with people who kept telling me to "work" on this or that for our marriage. I had this unrealistic idea that if I was truly with the person I was supposed to be with that it shouldn't be work to make the marriage successful. (Crazy, I know.) It's this kind of thinking that can often sink a marriage.

So (thankfully) somewhere along the way, I finally realized how irrational I was being and decided that Michael and our fragile little marriage was worth every ounce of WORK that was needed to make this whole process worthwhile. After toughing it out through some very rocky circumstances, I felt I all but owed it to Michael to make an effort to repair some of the damage I had done while making his life nearly miserable at times during those first few years.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I don't mince words. More often than I would like to admit, the filter from my brain to my mouth gets broken and the whole "think before you speak" adage is out the door in a heartbeat. In the heat of the moment, mangle some bitter words with tones of disdain, toss in a good dash of my strong-willed perfectionist personality, and you have a recipe for real disaster when it comes to communicating with a sweet husband who is desperately trying to help me.

So during this broadcast from Dr. Chapman, he addressed so many of these things. The first thing he talked about, and didn't apologize for, was that during the first 5 years of his marriage, he wasn't sure if the marriage was even going to make it. What? A pastor and psychologist struggled with marriage? He had my attention.
He then launched into the discussion about the languages. Obviously, there are five:
Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch. He talked about how to determine what language you and your partner "speak" and how to 'test' this fact. So I began thinking about what he said: often the easiest way to determine the love language of your partner is to listen to what they complain about the most - i.e., the one thing that Michael has often complained about how I don't respect him, I talk to him like a child, my tone of voice is abrasive, and so on...it slowly began to dawn on me that Michael's language must be Words of Affirmation....put it all together: I've spent 5 + years talking to him horribly, partially understanding that words were often more than words, but having NO IDEA that I was damaging Michael on a very deep level - the level at which he gives and receives love.

Sigh.

I kept listening and Dr. Chapman revealed that we often speak our own language as our way of showing love. So before I completely self-bashed because I was an awful wife for how I treated my husband, I realized that I was actually trying to communicate love to Michael using my language - Acts of Service, i.e, I would do things for him (make a nice dinner, buy him something small while out shopping, etc.) with little return from him other than a mild "thank you" that would leave me disappointed and sometimes hurt that he didn't appreciate what I had done for him.

It was all starting to make sense!

Finally Dr. Chapman challenged the listeners to try speaking their partner's love language (without their knowledge) for two weeks and see what happens.

My tongue has never bled so much from all the biting, but after two weeks of talking to Michael in the most sincerely sweet way I could manage and edifying him as much as possible, I was thrilled to see that it worked! He responded to me completely differently and there was a peacefulness in our house that had been missing for so long. Once I got him on board and explained how the process worked, Michael was all about it. We are working through the Love Languages book, devotional, and the applications on the website and it is amazing to see what it is doing for our marriage.

That Ugly Word

2011-06-05T21:58:00.001-04:00

Don't read this if you don't want to witness a brief pity-party. You've been warned.

The new ugly word in our house: infertility.

I never dreamed this would be a word in my regular vocabulary.I have always felt badly for women struggling to get pregnant, but as sympathetic as I tried to be toward these women, that's as far as I wanted to go - being sympathetic, not empathetic. I didn't want to personally know what it's like to wonder why the stork skips our house every time.
While we haven't been told that we CAN'T conceive (after many tests), it's clear that my body is not cooperating and that it will be "difficult" to conceive without intervention.
Intervention.
Another ugly word.
Intervention of the medicinal style doesn't exactly seem like a quick-fix to me: birth control made me crazy (literally), and fat, so I'm not really jumping at the thought of ingesting more artificial hormones that "might" work. But it may come to that. However, I don't like my doctor and don't have the time to go OB-shopping. I guess this is my way of blaming someone else and pouting about a situation I can't control. But that's just the beginning.

Do you wanna know what really sucks? Counting ~~days~~ hours each month until I can legitimately take a pregnancy test - praying, hoping, and expecting to see desirable results, and so far, NOT seeing those results. Taking a different brand of pregnancy test one month and seeing two lines, thinking that was a good sign, only to discover that THIS kind of test has to have a plus sign, not just a line. And when I run into people I know and the notion of pregnancy is mentioned, these people look at me and say, "Oh, I really don't think a baby is what you want to add to the mess going on in your life right now." Add that to the list of "Things Not to Say to a Woman Trying to Conceive," please.
Oh, how I would like to look at those people and say, "You know what? It's not up to you any more than it's up to me - it's completely up to God, and HE will decide when it's time." I'm comfortable with that, so please don't insult me (or God, for that matter) by saying such ridiculous things, especially to someone who could be momentarily heartbroken over another "failed" month.

In my plan (hahahahahaha...), by age 30 I saw myself sitting at wee-ball games with my son, complaining about the heat while planning the next play date for my 18 month-old daughter with church friends. Well, we all know how well planning has worked out for me so far! Nevertheless, I thought I would have a house full of children by now, so it's difficult enough to come to terms with that. Add in the pressure and difficulties of getting pregnant, and it's darn near impossible not to lose all hope.
Don't tell me that when I relax and stop thinking about it, that it will happen. I KNOW THAT. By telling me NOT to think about something, you're inadvertently INVITING me to THINK ABOUT IT.
Don't tell me about my options. Because of the now infamous 'financial situation,' we are essentially left with only the old-fashioned way of getting pregnant - no IVF or adoption. It's not even remotely feasible, so don't go there.
And don't remind me that I'm still young and have plenty of time. While that may be true, my crow's feet and 9:30 bedtime paint a different picture.

My mind gets out of control sometimes, I openly admit that. I often wonder that since children are a blessing, am I not worthy of receiving such a gift? Am I really too emotionally charged and high-strung to even consider raising a child? Did I mess up so badly somewhere along the way that THIS is the punishment I get - that I never get to bear, deliver, and hold our own newborn? It's such a private, often indescribable pain.
I know I'm not alone. I know millions of other women are happily caring for their multiple children after years of infertility. I know I'm not the only one to walk this path, but that doesn't make the path I'm on seem any shorter or any less treacherous.

BUT (here's the light, the good part) even in all of this pity, there is a still, small voice that says "keep praying, keep hoping - believe and receive." (Thanks, mom.) Some days this voice is almost inaudible, but it's there. God's word has too many promises of hope for me to be so shameful that I don't listen to my Almighty Father. I refuse to let the devil win this battle with me. I have to make a daily choice to put God's plan ahead of mine, and then trust that His plan is truly perfect. Perfect. And in spite of all my disappointment, my rage toward my body, and my fight against time, I know that whatever the outcome, this pain is temporary, and quite possibly necessary. It has crossed my mind more than once that if it weren't for these days of longing, I might take one minute of motherhood for granted, whenever that day should come. And that would truly be a shame. I pray for the mothers I know every day, that they would savor every sweet smile and know how highly favored and blessed they are. I pray for my future children, as if they're already here. And I dream of seeing God's work in what seems like such a dark cloud of disappointment mixed in with all the other mess of life.
"Lord I believe, help me in my unbelief."

A Mural

2011-05-28T20:53:00.001-04:00

I've been more than busy at work the last few weeks and here's why:
Since my job is a new position, I'm tasked with creating it from the ground level. Sounds exciting, right? It is, but it's also considerably stressful, especially thanks to my perfectionist nature. It's also extremely difficult to determine every detail of a position when the first assignment is to design a 1400 sq. ft. facility for a training program, meetings, etc...with no budget and limited resources. I had a bare bones space - concrete floors, hung sheet rock, and an open ceiling. Luckily, lights had been dropped and while it's not ideal, for now we're living with the open ceiling concept.
Check.
For flooring, I worked with the building manager until we could find the best possible deal for acceptable carpet (to cut down on echo in the room).
Check.
Now for the walls, we ran into some, well, walls. Most quotes we were getting were higher than the carpet and just plain unreasonable. I had to do some thinking. The idea of ME painting the walls was just not feasible since I'm horrible with a roller and the walls are 18 ft tall. Not happening. I knew then that I was going to need a "cheap" team of people willing to paint...
Hmmmm...
Students...
With the help and coaxing of a co-worker, it was decided that I should present the idea of art students from local high schools coming in to paint a mural on the walls of this facility. It was a longshot, but somehow, the president approved the idea and we were on. It took a lot of scheduling and re-scheduling, but finally I was able to get students from both Glasgow High School and the entire A.P. art class (and their teacher) from Barren County High School to come in and paint all 1400 square feet.
They were unbelievable.
I'm so pleased with their work, they were such a breeze to work with, and are truly great kids. I couldn't have asked for more, especially at the end of the school year. It took two weeks of long nights and a weekend (which is record speed, if you ask me) but it was worth it.
(The carpet hadn't been laid in these pictures.)

And the best part? This is my "office" so I get to look at this every day.

*I haven't been able to appropriately honor the GHS kids due to scheduling conflicts and I feel terrible that their hard work has not been rewarded. They were great and "thank you" just isn't enough. And my 'finisher,' Todd Woodward, deserves a huge THANK YOU for coming in to bridge the gap and wrap up the project. I'm forever indebted!

The Lazy Day

2011-05-21T14:15:00.004-04:00

Why do some people always feel the need to justify a being lazy - whether it's just a few minutes of laziness or a whole day devoted to nothing? I can't count the times I hear people say things like, "oh, I was just lazy and enjoyed the sun today..." or something of that nature. Bruno Mars felt the need to write (a quite catchy) song about it. I've creeped many a blog that each have at least a couple of posts about this very issue, essentially degrading themselves for not vying for the title of "Wife/Mom/Daughter/Student of the Year" for a day. So this leads me to believe that it must either be a certain personality trait that causes such a conundrum for people or maybe it's just a woman thing. (I lean toward the latter notion given the fact that men - with the exception of Bruno Mars, of course - rarely, if ever write a shameful blog post about how guilty they feel for eating that whole bag of chips while parked in front of a Lifetime movie marathon.) Whatever the case, I guess I'm one of those people.

So that's what I'm doing - justifying.

Kinda.

I could say things to explain how busy I've been at work or how I haven't had a chance to really rest because by the time I have enough time to sit, I sleep, or how we're going through so much right now that sometimes even the most mundane tasks are too much for my mind to tackle (attempting to clean the bathroom almost sent me into a meltdown) or I could even admit that I just want to do N-O-T-H-I-N-G. All of those seem like perfectly acceptable lazy excuses.

But then I think of all those people who would never let a minute go by without accomplishing something and how inferior I must seem to them when they unload their laundry list of accomplishments to me on Monday morning, turn to me and ask, "So what did YOU do this weekend?" and I'm left with a choice to either make something up or confess my slug-like behavior, thus beginning the week feeling like a Weekend Warrior Boot Camp Drop-Out. I also think about how sometimes I overwhelm and undermine myself by Sunday evening if I haven't accomplished X-amount of items on my list and how there are oh so many things that need to be tended to. Or I think about mom's adage: "Idle hands are the devil's delight" which I have unfortunately proved to be correct too many times to count.

Sidenote: After seeing it laid out here, it seems ironic that I would even wonder why someone asked me the other day, "you can't just unwind, can you?" Really.

So, luckily, sometimes you just stumble upon something that makes it totally worth it to leave those projects undone and lists a mile-long.
Enter the E! True Hollywood Story of...(wait for it) KATE GOSSELIN.
Clearly, this is a must-see.
Sidenote 2: In spite of how much I enjoyed watching it, isn't this an oxymoron? 1, I really don't think two half-way reality shows and a sad stint on Dancing with the Stars hardly constitute a Hollywood celebrity status and 2, isn't her story already TRUE? The E! Network must be running out of real stars that want to dish their secrets.

Add in a Glee marathon on the Oxygen Network, and the stars have aligned.
Ahhhhhhh, laziness.

This Dude is Unbelievable

2011-05-14T20:30:00.000-04:00

Have you seen this guy?

Meet Dean Karnazes. He's a running fool. On May 10, he completed a 3-month long run across America to benefit the Action for Healthy Kids program. You can read his story here. It's truly amazing. I followed his story primarily from "Live with Regis and Kelly" and was just completely blown away by someone who would even consider such a feat, much less complete it. He is such an inspiration, even to someone who wouldn't even normally consider running to the mailbox and back unless I was being chased. I may not be able to run 3,000 miles, but I can certainly appreciate the passion and drive this man has.

Bravo, running man. Bravo.

My Favorite Things Pt. 6

2011-05-07T16:35:00.001-04:00

Dyson Vacuums

I vacuum. A lot. Vacuumming often feeds motivation to get other things clean, so I vacuum to get motivated. I vacuum when I'm stressed. I have been known to vacuum at all hours of the day, much to the chagrin of roommates and my husband. But vacuuming entered a whole new level of greatness when we got a Dyson. It's really as great as the commercials say it is. Our Dyson (Animal model) is 5 years old now and still going strong. (I typically would burn through a regular vacuum within 6 months.) I will sell my left arm to buy another one when the day comes that we have to replace it.

Royal Nostalgia

2011-04-30T16:29:00.002-04:00

I don't know who I was kidding. Me not get wrapped up in Royal Wedding mania? I told myself I would just catch a glimpse here and there, but that would be it.
Clearly, I was mistaken.
As I sifted through the 7 different DVR'd Royal Wedding specials from Friday, I realized maybe I had gone a little overboard. (And that was on top of the random specials from Lifetime, TLC, and Oxygen - including Princess Diana's wedding - that I had recorded earlier in the week.) But as the wedding got closer and the hype was hard to avoid, I couldn't help myself. After all, this wedding is history in the making, even if it's not American history, and evidently I didn't want to be left out. And of course, nothing disappointed - Kate was unbelievably beautiful (and super skinny...), all the pomp and pageantry was not to be outdone, and I couldn't get enough. I was actually a little sad when it was over. (Yes, I do have a life and better things to do, but it was kind of thrilling to 'witness' an event meant only for joy. I was a typical little girl, reading and fantasizing about the typical stuff of fairy tales and this is probably the closest thing to the fulfillment of such a fantasy that I'll ever witness.)
But I couldn't be just a regular person enjoying the events on my TV - no, no, I immediately delved into memories of my wedding - the preparation, how quickly we arranged everything (8 weeks), the reasoning behind why we did what we did, the specifics from the day, etc...and then my mind shifted to marriage - how almost 6 years later things are so different than I imagined on that day and wondering if William and Kate will encounter the ups and downs of marriage and of life in general. My mind ran wild, which led me to drag out my wedding box.

Our wedding was certainly no royal event (I honestly don't think I could handle that pressure) but it was undoubtedly the most special and meaningful day of my life. It upheld the two most precious things in my life - family and music. I set out from the beginning to make every item hold some sort of meaning instead of just being for show. I wore my mother's veil and my bouquet was built on her wedding Bible. We involved as much family as we could in the ceremony, and we only invited family. It was a beautiful day and I feel kind of bad that most of the momentos are in a box in a closet. I haven't even gotten all of the shower and honeymoon pictures in books, but I hope to 'digitize' some stuff very soon and get all of that done!

One last note about the Royal Wedding: The bride and groom's recessional may have been familiar to Glasgow High band members from 1996...it was William Walton's "Crown Imperial" which just happened to be our field show closer that year. Also, according to the wedding website, Walton's "Touch Her Soft Lips and Part" was included in the prelude which was our "slow piece" in '96. Lovely!

Eggos for Easter

2011-04-25T19:13:00.003-04:00

So it was set to be a 'regular' Easter with a new dress, coordinating tie for Michael, gifts for my neice and nephew and a great lunch at my parent's house.

This little guy had different plans.

While we were getting ready for church, Dozer started acting funny and I noticed he had dribbled in the floor (which is very rare) but sometimes means he drank too much, so I called for Michael to get him to take him outside. Then I realized he couldn't move much at all and Michael had to pick him up to take him out. Just a few minutes later Michael flung the door open and told me to get a vet on the phone, that he was clearly in trouble and we needed to get him somewhere very fast. I had to leave a message for a vet to call us back and by this time we had decided that with his glassy eyes, disorientation, stiff body, and trouble controlling his bodily functions that he must be having a seizure. After talking with the vet who promptly called us back, he said it was likely that he did have a seizure and told us what to watch for as he came out of it. It took a little while, but he did recover. He was very confused and scared and needed attention. So by this point, it was too late to make it to church and the vet said we needed to watch Dozer anyway. Instead, we settled in and had some Eggos for breakfast and watched a lovely church service on TV. I fought being upset about not being able to go to church, but decided that Jesus is what makes Easter perfect and he can find us in a church pew or in our home.
We still made it to my parents to eat lunch (with the dogs in tow, of course) and had a lovely afternoon in spite of the less-than-desirable stormy weather. We went ahead and put on our "Easter clothes" for pictures!

Clearly, me and my SIL had the same idea!

Dozer was feeling better by lunchtime...hoping for a bite of food!

(Btw, Dozer has a vet appointment to get checked out, so say a little prayer that this isn't an ongoing problem.)

My Favorite Things pt. 5

2011-04-15T22:12:00.002-04:00

Getting my hair done.
I love being 'pampered' for 2 hours while someone else tries to make me beautiful. Ha! Even if it doesn't turn out well, I still love it. I love people messing with my hair (which is rather surprising since I endured what I considered torture for 12 years as my mom did my hair every single morning of my life. Bless her heart.) I've gone to a hair appointment with a horrible headache on more than one occasion and I always leave feeling better. The Aveda salon that did my hair on my wedding day was especially talented at this and offered scalp/neck massages that were heavenly. I especially love getting my hair done now as I love my stylist, Amy Jones at Off Broadway. She's hilarious, puts up with my specific requests, and always does such an awesome job. I think the root of this is that getting hair, nails, etc. "done" makes me feel especially girly! If I wasn't in the middle of do-it-yourself home renovations, had the money, and didn't think it would bolster me into the "totally over-the-top high maintenance" category, I would get my nails done regularly too. Ha!

Happy Birthday, Michael!

2011-04-09T14:52:00.002-04:00

TODAY is my sweet, wonderful husband's birthday!

You're a wonderful man, Michael. I don't know what my life would be like without you!
You are my best friend and a fantastic 'father' to our furbabies.
I wouldn't want to be on this JOURNEY with anyone else.

Thank you for choosing me and for loving me at my worst. If I could give you the world (and an Indian motorcycle) I would. Instead we will celebrate TODAY and count our blessings and pray for many, many more birthdays to celebrate together.
Happy Birthday!

Be sure to go to his Facebook page or give him a call and wish him a Happy Birthday!

Incentive

2011-04-06T19:35:00.003-04:00

Want motivation to get your house renovations under way?

Sell your couch.

In my mind, it made sense. We need a new sofa anyway. We have too much furniture as it is. We're going to be painting, we're going to be laying flooring...it would be easier to manuever with less stuff...so the best way to jump-start the renovations was to sell furniture. Less to move, less to cover up...it made perfect sense to me.

I think I jumped the gun.

While we are doing all of those things (laying floor, etc.) the first things we have to do are actually in the powder room and kitchen. A lot of things in the kitchen specifically - painting cabinets, walls, hanging crown molding...THEN we can start on the floors. And with a husband that works six days a week, those things aren't going to happen overnight. I should also tell you that a good majority of my evenings throughout the week consist of snuggle-time with my beagle, falling asleep in front of the TV, and surfing the internet, all taking place on the comfort of my sofa.

Even while I knew the schedule of events and knew that we weren't going to replace the sofa immediately, we found a buyer for the sofa and a chair and now we're off. No turning back. But let me tell you, squished up on a 4ft. love seat with a 25lb. beagle (who is definitely confused) trying to get comfortable is not my idea of fun! Also, after the flooring, painting, etc is completed, the room is going to be completely rearranged and the removal of the sofa and a chair has completely thrown off the zen of the room. I've already spent hours trying to minimally rearrange the furniture to make it work for the meantime! Ridiculous. We do have a lot more space, and Michael and I keep telling each other and the dogs "look at all this room we have to do activities" like Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly in Step Brothers...

So for the meantime, we're going to enjoy all our space for activities and really get moving on getting this stuff done! And I will certainly look forward to resting on my new sofa very soon...

A Prodigal Problem

2011-04-03T13:44:00.000-04:00

This may make me a “bad” Christian or at the least, a very confused one, but I can honestly say I have never fully understood the story of the Prodigal Son in Luke 15. (See below.) Of course it was an easy concept to grasp that the younger son had strayed from his father and plundered his wealth and inheritance, then after seeing that only yielded him a life of pain, he returns to his father to be fully received with open arms and even given a grand feast to celebrate his return. I understood that part. It’s the rest of the story, about the older son, that really got to me. Here he was, following everything he was supposed to do, obeying his father, staying the course, being GOOD, and what does he get? He has to stand by and witness his frivolous, careless brother who had wandered off and fraternized with prostitutes be welcomed home with a FEAST? Are you kidding me? The older son clearly becomes resentful toward his younger brother – and I have to admit, I would be resentful too! And to make matters worse, I never understood why pastors (at least the pastors I heard speak on the Prodigal Son) always avoided speaking about the other son. I could relate the THAT guy – here I am, trudging along, trying to do my best, working hard to please God and serve others, and it’s the one who has strayed and done his own thing and lived an earthly, sinner’s life that gets the party?! I would get so hung up on the fact that the older son wasn’t rewarded for his obedience that I couldn’t focus my attention on what the whole message says. The few times I would try to ask for clarification, the main response I would get is, “the older son was receiving the love of his father all along.” And while that is true, it still didn’t make it okay in my mind that a PARTY was thrown for the younger son who was so obviously inferior. I was so confused…and then I was convicted.
Turns out, the story really is about the older son. It contains messages for the lost and the faithful alike. Sure, the return of the estranged son is a fantastic message for how lost sinners are welcomed back into the kingdom of God by the grace and mercy of a loving father. (Thus the message for the lost and estranged.) But the parable specifically emphasizes the older son’s reaction in order to teach something to the “Christians” who are plugging along at our daily walk, (thinking we are superior to those who are not carefully tending to their walk.) You see, the older son pleads his case with his father and specifically uses the words “I’ve slaved for you, never disobeyed you…” SLAVED for you. He looked at living his life for his father as drudgery, hardship, difficulty. Is that really how God wants us to look at our life as Christians – as drudgery? I would think not. The second part of the message from the father’s response to his eldest son contains a powerful message of mercy – that we as Christians walking in faith are to REJOICE when the estranged, lost, dead return to home to their Father. After all, we ALL are yet sinners and fall short of the glory of the Lord. Who are we (especially as Christians) to think we are that we are so far better than the lost souls who have strayed? What kind of Christ-like love and mercy are we showing if we live a life of drudgery and resentment just so we can get to Heaven one day and say, “But I did everything right all my life and still it was the sinners you rewarded! All that work, and still I wasn’t happy!” That, my friend, would truly be the tragedy.

The message is plain as day, and I’m quite ashamed that I’ve missed it all these years. I’ve struggled with an earthly inferiority complex most of my life, but clearly in this case, I seem to have a SUperiority complex that has caused me to sin in the worst way – by thinking I was some kind of special Christian because I (most of the time) walked the straight and narrow. Humility is a powerful force in God’s hands. No matter how close my walk with God is, I’m still a sinner and though I always thought I could exclusively side with the older brother in the story, it’s clear I too can side with the Prodigal Son as well.

The Parable of the Lost Son

11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. 13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything. 17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. 21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. 25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ 28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’ 31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’"

Oops

2011-03-31T19:57:00.001-04:00

...and what do YOU think these look like?

Yeah, that's what I thought too.

So I have this delicious (really, super delicious) cookie recipe that I found in my Peanut Butter cookbook. I'm quite the cookie connoisseur and I bake quite a bit, so when I found this really easy and tasty cookie recipe, I was all about it:

1 block white chocolate Almond Bark
1 cup Rice Krispies
1 cup peanuts
1 cup chunky peanut butter
1 cup marshmallows

Melt the Almond Bark in the Crock Pot (yes, in the Crock Pot - it's amazing and the chocolate won't burn like it can in a sauce pan, just FYI) then add all the other ingredients. Mix well, then spoon on to wax paper to cool.

So easy, and if you like those ingredients, so yummy!

Here's the problem: you MUST use WHITE Almond Bark. Otherwise you end up with Exhibit A above.
Yuck.
It was late one night a couple of weeks ago and I wanted to make something for the bake sale our Bowl for Kids' Sake teams were having at work, so I decided I would whip up some of my wonderful cookies. One problem - I only had milk chocolate Almond Bark. I figured 'chocolate is chocolate,' right? WRONG. For some reason, the marshmallows melted into the chocolate and it came out as this gross, disgusting mess. They didn't even half-way taste good.
Good thing they had more than enough entries for the bake sale.
I don't think anyone would have bought cookies that look like...well...you know...

On! On! U of K...

2011-03-27T22:00:00.000-04:00

In my mind, I'm Ashley Judd.
(Humor me.)
I'm at the Prudential Center in Newark, New Jersey.
Casual and relaxed, I'm dressed in my blue and white.
My shaker rests loosely in my right hand as the Tarheels tie the game at the 3 minute mark.
I watch willfully as DeAndre Liggins launches a 3-pointer.
And then I hold my breath as it's reviewed by the refs.
Then I watch as our lone senior, Josh Harrellson plays back-to-back defensive bests to increase our lead to 5.
Then I realize, my Wildcats just won their way into the Final Four.
It's a GREAT day.

FINAL FOUR, BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Favorite Things pt. 4

2011-03-24T19:13:00.003-04:00

In honor of the BIG BLUE fighting for the win against a machine of a team (Ohio State) on Friday in the Sweet Sixteen, I thought it would be appropriate to express my gratitude for the Big Blue greats of all restaurants, CULVERS!
I relate this little gem of a family-college-town-sit down-drive-thru eating establishment to when Michael and I first moved to Bowling Green. We live on the southwest side of the county and there's not a whole lot of places to eat without crossing through a great deal of traffic at the Scottsville Rd/I-65 interchange into "town." So when we decided to try this unheard-of place that is on 'our side' of the county, it immediately became one of our favorite places to go (or take out.) Their specialty is the ButterBurger, and oh my my, what a little peice of heaven that is! They serve frozen custard in many flavors with a variety of toppings and this is a staple of my diet in the summer. They also have crinkle fries, which is one of Michael's favorites. I was certain I was going to wear this place out within the first few weeks we lived here! Eventually we unpacked our kitchen and I was able to cook again, but it's still our go-to "we've had a rough day and don't want to cook" comfort food.

Weekend Wrap-up

2011-03-20T23:43:00.000-04:00

We had a fantastically busy weekend, the first of many I'm sure.

I was asked to accompany students for the Solos and Ensembles festival on Saturday. I had 12 students to play for so I spent much of the week preparing to make sure I didn't cause the students to make mistakes or slow them down and since I hadn't accompanied students in a very long time, I wanted to be well-prepared! Everything went great and I was reminded of what a rewarding experience it is to work with young people, especially young musicians. I am so greatly moved by the sustainability of music - these students were as serious and tenacious about their performances as I was 15 years ago. (Oh, how old I am!) It was wonderful to see such dedication to the finest of all the arts.

After the morning music events, I was able to go see my nephew play in his final Upward basketball game. I didn't take any pictures (I forgot I had my phone), but he was great and I'm so proud of him!

We then enjoyed a great lunch together at the Applebee's in Glasgow and watched UK advance to the Sweet Sixteen! While we were there, we discovered that my dad, brother, and nephew are in one of the featured local pictures hanging throughout the restaurant. We always knew dad was a local celebrity! Ha!

Mom and I shopped the afternoon away, mainly looking for unattainable wreath forms, but finding everything else we didn't need. Isn't that always the way shopping goes?

After church today, since it was so beautiful out (80 degrees, what?), Michael was finally able to clean limbs out of the yard that had fallen during recent storms. I spent the afternoon catching up on housework and some R&R!

Hope you all had a great weekend as well!

Remodel

2011-03-15T08:32:00.004-04:00

EVERYTHING is heading for a facelift, getting renovated, and is currently under construction!!!

As you can see, my blog is very bare - dull and boring. I've been doing a lot of thinking about it, and if I really want to get serious about this blogging stuff, I've got to do some sprucing up. I had been considering options for blog designers, working with designing myself, and then I went to my blog tonight and realized that the blog template I had been using has been deleted (ugh!) and I realized this blog overhaul was going to have to happen sooner than expected. One problem - I don't know how to do it. After staring at a computer screen for 8 hours a day, trying to figure out html codes for another 8 hours after I get home is not my idea of fun. If anyone reads this, please leave me a comment or email me to let me know how you get someone to redesign your blog! I want someone good and who will listen to my ideas, concerns, etc, but I'm completely clueless and I just don't have the time and/or energy to do it myself with the template designer (I feel too restricted with that thing anyway)
and...
we've officially started the updates on our house!!!

This was the half-jacked faucet that was such a pain...

And now, a new simple, clean, and fully functional faucet!

The powder room vanity, kitchen cabinets, flooring for the entire ground level, crown molding...it's all yet to come!
New blog design and a house updates - let the fun begin!!!!!!!!

March-ing On

2011-03-05T22:29:00.000-05:00

I'm so happy it's March. College basketball (Go CATS!), budding trees, longer days, warmer temps...I'll take it. I appreciate winter and all it's glorious snow, holidays, and comfy clothes. But when it's time to bid goodbye to winter, it's time and there is no love lost. Bring on SPRING!
In honor of the first sign of the end of winter, the NCAA tourney, I've been busy making wreaths!

The best (and my favorite) - UK:

The "other" one (foes of the Cats...) - U of L:

Each can be yours for the low, low price of $25!

Easter wreaths coming soon!
Leave a comment or email me if you're interested!

Hold On

2011-02-19T19:35:00.001-05:00

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Didn't they always say we were the lucky ones?
I guess that we were once
Babe, we were once
But luck will leave you 'cause it is a faithless friend
And in the end,
When life has got you down
You've got someone here that you can wrap your arms around

So hold on to me tight
Hold on to me tonight
We are stronger here together
Than we could ever be alone
So hold on to me
Don't you ever let me go

There's a thousand ways for things to fall apart
But it's no one's fault
No, it's not our fault
Maybe all the plans we made might not workout
But I have no doubt, even though it's hard to see
That I've got faith in us
And I believe in you and me

So hold on to me tight
Hold on I promise it'll be alright
'Cause it's you and me together
And baby, all we've got is time
So hold on to me
Hold on to me tonight

There's so many dreams that we have given up
Take a look at all we've got
And with this kind of love
What we've got here is enough

So hold on to me tight
Hold on l promise it'll be alright
'Cause we are stronger here together
Than we could ever be alone
Just hold on to me,
Don't you ever let me go
Hold on to me, it's gonna be alright
Hold on to me tonight

Didn't they always say we were the lucky ones?

"Hold On" - Michael Buble

Sometimes It Ain't Pretty

2011-02-04T22:25:00.003-05:00

Oh, how I have tried to make this blog a pretty place - making our lives seem like we lie in a bed of roses, frolic in a field of lavender. I rarely write about the tough stuff because I'm afraid it's just too revealing. (Thus why this post is so vague.) I've skirted around issues and made light of our difficulties. I kept thinking, "who wants to read about our woes anyway?" I even started this blog amidst a very difficult time in our lives and have still managed to post positive things, happy moments, and silly quips about my own shortcomings and niceties. I don't want to complain. I've said that before. I don't want to whine. I've said that before too. But I do want to tell the truth.

And the truth is, we need prayer. A lot of it.

We haven't been given a cancer diagnosis. We haven't experienced a sudden death. And we aren't getting divorced. And for those things we are extremely thankful. But we are experiencing pain and suffering that has, until this point, been so private and lonely that it has literally made us both physically sick.

We have been plunged so deeply into a financial crisis due to the closure of Michael's business two years ago that sometimes we can't see the light. And when I say 'plunged,' I literally mean inadvertently flung, thrown, shoved into suffering that was so unforseeable that we sometimes can't even form questions to ask or prayers to say. I'm sure you're thinking, 'oh, I guess it's bankruptcy then.' Nope. Been there. Survived it and surpassed any and all expectations of recovery, and again, we are so thankful to have gotten through that. But just when the light was peeking through the clouds and we were stabilizing, feeling our way around our new beginning...disaster. Unbeknownst to us, there was a tax mess from the closed business brewing behind the scenes that we never imagined. And because Michael owned the company, (how convenient) the guilty parties are fleeing innocently as we stand for the beating, enter the fire, and cling to the tiniest shred of rope left to grab on to.

Confusion grips our minds daily. We live in survival mode, just getting by, doing only the necessary tasks to keep a house running and our dogs fed. We pray. We cry. We try to find the good in our days and squeak by on those miniscule bits of happiness. We dig deep for joy. We are counseled and we read our Bibles. But sometimes, it's just too much to bear and our human spirits become crushed under pressure that we didn't know could exist.

And perhaps worst of all, I have watched as the strong, confident, man of God I married crumbles into a pit of fear and despair that I don't know how to show him the way out of. He has faced so many undeserved blows that it amazes me that he can still stand. The pain is deep.

I feel guilty even writing this - that it's unnecessary to be so dramatic. And while that's probably the case, it's still the truth.

Now hear this:
We are Christians. We love God and trust Jesus Christ as our Savior and Lord. We admit every day how blessed we are to be where we are, surrounded by the people in our lives, and know that our strength truly comes only from Him. We don't want pity. We know our troubles could be so much worse. We know we have each other to share the burden. These troubles are short-lived and we will somehow make it out alive. We know we are being refined, and we consider that a reason for rejoicing - that God loves us enough to mold us in the fire, together. But we also know when to ask for help, and we ask for your prayers.

I also want to make mention of how this revelation came to pass. Exactly six years ago tonight, Michael and I met for the very first time. It was magic. Everything really did seem like a bed of roses and a field of lavender and I couldn't have imagined that this is where we'd be in six short years. However, if you had told me then what we would be enduring now, and that we'd be wrestling with our sanity over another supper from a sack when we "celebrated" this night, I still would have most definitely signed on for the ride. I am learning so much about love and devotion that I otherwise would have missed. I am learning so much about myself and what real faith is that I otherwise wouldn't have learned. And most importantly, we experience God's love, grace, and faithfulness in a measure that we wouldn't have witnessed any other way. And that is truly amazing to me.

I have no idea how I will ever return to regular blogging after a post like this - I mean, writing a post that pours our souls onto the screen then writing an ode to how much I love Glee just seems weird to me. But I suppose we'll all manage. Maybe it's a nice break from reading about my meltdowns over crafts. Who knows. Nonetheless, thank you for indulging me. Thank you for not judging us as we lay our hearts on the line. And thank you for your prayers.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." - Jeremiah 29:11

My Favorite Things pt. 3

2011-01-26T21:00:00.002-05:00

DVR

Originally, my featured favorite thing this week was going to be "Live with Regis and Kelly" (which is one of my favorite shows) but then I realized that the fact that I can now DVR it and my other shows is really the topic. I absolutely don't know what we did, especially as a married couple, before we had DVR. Our television viewing is so much more enjoyable with DVR! We rarely, if ever watch anything live anymore and loathe having to sit through commericials if for some reason we are watching a program in real time. And, as I mentioned before, I'm able to enjoy daytime shows even as a working girl. Not that daytime shows are essential to my well-being, but it is nice to feel like I'm not missing everything that goes on during the work day. And the added benefit of being able to record two things at once is huge around here - if it weren't for this feature, someone would be unhappy at some point from missing a show or event, or heaven fobid, a ballgame. So thank you, tech gurus and cable genius, for developing a way to enjoy the laziest of all pastimes whenever we want.

No Whining

2011-01-22T13:42:00.001-05:00

Confession: I intended from the beginning to keep my blog a 'happy' place, not a place to publicly whine. (I know my own tendencies!) But the truth is, I struggle on a daily basis to fight off the enemy, to find the good in a situation, to be positive, or to simply survive some days. I retreat and hide when the going gets tough more than I would like to admit. I wallow, pout, and fret more than I should. I over-analyze and beat that poor dead horse until it exhausts me. Yep, I own up to it all.
Self-realization acheived.
But now it's time to move on.
In the spirit of keeping things 'happy' I'm writing this post to record that while life is more difficult than I ever, ever, ever expected, God's always there, even in the little things, and somehow, good can be found when it too, is least expected. I've witnessed this more times than I can count. I just don't want to forget it again. Life sends us some real blows, it's true. And it is certainly a good thing we're only given one day at a time because much more, and I'd be in a real pickle. This was one of those weeks when taking one minute at a time became the focus. I know everyone can relate. But such is life, and life goes on. And for that, and so many other things, I'm thankful.
Record-keeping acheived.

My Favorite Things pt. 2

2011-01-19T20:28:00.005-05:00

Crescent Rolls.

Yummy, flaky, buttery crescent rolls. I loved those commercials a few years ago that talked about how home = where the crescent rolls are...so true. I love bread of all kinds, but crescent rolls are my no. 1, (followed closely by croissants.) I love the way these smell when they're baking - the house fills with deliciousness. I could make a whole cookbook of stuff to make with Crescent Rolls because they're so versatile.
Little Doughboy, you're a genius for inventing such heavenly bread.

Why Wear White?

2011-01-16T23:30:00.000-05:00

While watching the evening gown portion of the Miss America pageant last night, one of my frustrations came rushing back to me. I have to admit it mildly drives me crazy when these women choose a white dress for their evening gown. I know, it seems ridiculous, but seriously, think about it:

First, it is widely known that white is the least flattering color in the world (not that these women need any help in the flattery department, but white can make even the most trim person look lumpy.)

Secondly, the fact that a woman is competing in such a prestigious event (win or not) makes the event one of the most important days of her life, right? Okay, what other day is one of the biggest in a woman's life? Her WEDDING day, right? And what color will she most likely be wearing on that day? WHITE. So why would you want to be wearing the same color on two of the most memorable days of your life? And some of them even have an attached train! Add a veil and a nervous, sweaty guy in a tux, and sign the papers! It's a wedding!

And finally, what woman would want to have this conversation with her future husband: Wife - "Oh honey, remember that white dress, you know the one with the sequins?" Husband - "Of course, your wedding dress." Wife - "Uh, NO, the dress I wore in the single most important scholarship pageant in the world, with millions of people watching. How could you forget? My wedding dress had pearls, not sequins..." Now that's just asking for trouble.

Now I'm sure for all you pageant connoisseurs out there, I understand that there is some statistical evidence behind a white dress or a yellow dress being the most popular among winners (the winner last night wore white) and according to my mom, all the women used to wear white, so I suppose I'm just not very well-versed in Miss America trivia. But trust me, if I had miraculously been a Miss America contestant, this gal would have been sporting a red, pink, blue, or turquoise dress.

And for those of you that know me, I'm sure that comes as no surprise.

My Favorite Things pt. 1

2011-01-06T22:57:00.006-05:00

Pajama Pants.

I love pajama pants, lounge pants, yoga pants; flannel, cotton, silk; plaid, polka dot, striped, solid, printed - they're all great. Some days I really look forward to being in my pajama pants and if I don't have anything to do in the evening that requires seeing anyone other than my husband, I'm in them by dinner. I have quite a few pairs of pajama pants, some as part of pajama sets, some without a top (but I usually match them with a long-sleeve tee anyway!) There's nothing more comfortable than pajama pants! I have some I've had since college (I'm just realizing that actually is getting to be a significant amount of time ago now - yikes!) but the new ones are great too! My favorite pair of pajama pants were bold-multi-colored plaid ones from Victoria's Secret that I got for Christmas one year in high school. I'm sure I eventually couldn't wear them anymore, but I miss them! They were a perfect thinner flannel and of course, super comfy!

Anyway, thank you, pajama pants, for making the world a better place.

Streamlined, Simplified, and Stress-free

2011-01-02T18:00:00.004-05:00

I used to think more was more. The more choices I had, the more supplies I had, the more stuff I had, the better off I was. I truly could not have been more wrong. A dear former co-worker (much older and wiser than I) once told me that you spend your first 30 years collecting junk and your next 30 years trying to get rid of it. As a new 30-something, I am well on my way to employing this theory.
When I first started this blog, I vowed to finish the many projects that had gone undone for too many years. Little did I know that this year would dish out some life-changes that would not only drain my time and energy but also add to the long 'to-do' list that is my life. I (ashamedly) packed up and moved, yet again, all the boxes of craft supplies, scrapbook garb, and almost-handmades that have been plaguing me for too long. I evidently had visions of grandeur and illusions of days ahead that would have 38 hours instead of just 24. Whatever the case, it is now crystal clear to me that I am not the multi-tasker of my twenties and I will most likely never have the time that would be required for me to enjoy and adequately finish all of these crafts. For the record, I always thought I would be a stay-at-home mom and that was primarily the driving force behind keeping all of this stuff - that one day, when the baby was napping, I would craft until my heart was content and then do crafts with the child when they were older, etc. Well, since I certainly don't know when we'll be blessed with a baby, and I have learned that I probably would drive myself and others crazy if I were to be at home 24/7 (most likely considering those closeted crafts LAST on my list with a new baby) it's best to purge. NOW.
I don't know what took so long for me to come to such a realization - it was just a year ago that I was all but justifying having all this stuff - but I do know that the combination of this last move, unexpected life turns, and this last set of holidays certainly had bearing on my mind-set that I've somehow got to get out from underneath all this stuff. (Oh how I regret going back to buy those buckets!) The holidays in particular led me through such a fall-out as I fussed and fretted over gifts. Should I make this gift or not? Will these people appreciate a handmade gift or think its hokey? Who have I not given Uppercase Living junk to yet? Who really wants a gift I just pulled out of a closet and wrapped up - doesn't that defeat gift-giving altogether? By Christmas, I was a mess of half-done cookie bouquets and a pile of miscellaneous undone gift projects and half of the people I wanted to give a gift to didn't receive anything because I was too stressed-out by my own best efforts. (I did not listen to my own Martha Stewart sermon!) What a sight I was. I knew it was time to change when the inanimate objects in my closets were causing me such trouble! I shouldn't feel like I have to give a gift just because I have this or that lying around or this or that I could make into something - a gift comes from the heart, not a closet of junk. It's time to chalk-up my handmade gift bliss to something of my singlehood, of years past. For now, it's just not as feasible to be a homemaker and a career gal and harboring all this stuff just bears an unnecessary load. While I won't just load up a truck and hock it all, I will pare down to just essentials and craft staples for when I do have the odd combination of time and desire for something crafty. And I have a sinking suspicion this will allow for a whole new level of creativity as I relish in the blank slate of sorts. Ahh, I can already feel the freedom...
But this new outline doesn't just apply to all of those undone crafts - this is an all-out overhaul of sorts. I've started re-designing the furniture layouts in our home to make for better flow and function by not only moving the furniture, but actually eliminating some peices. My closet is seeing a new life as I'm actually getting rid of unworn or unflattering items instead of just re-arranging them. The pantry, the bathroom, the kitchen - nowhere is safe. And especially targeted are those "Memory Boxes" - what a disservice to an heirloom item by shoving it in a box in the attic or a closet. I will find a way to decorate or use these "heirlooms" that are too precious to part with, and then will take photos of the others and donate or sell them. I'll make a photo book of the items and cherish their memory, honorably. I'm determined to find a better way to use what we have and only have what we use. All of this excess has become so burdensome and I have finally realized that superior organization skills don't make it okay to have so much - organizing often just hides items, severely lessening the opportunity to use them.
So it begins: 2011 is the year of streamlining and simplifying to make for a more stress-free future. It's a harsh reality, but less really is more.

We Moved South...

2010-12-27T08:32:00.001-05:00

and we have...

our first WHITE CHRISTMAS

as a married couple.

It. Was. Wonderful.

Skipping Christmas

2010-12-21T22:45:00.007-05:00

Right about now, this sounds like such a good idea. It's an unfortunate fact that the holidays are such a difficult time of year for everyone, for many different reasons. Everything seems to be moving at such a hurried pace. Days are short and our lists are far too long. And even when it's the "good" stuff that we're tending to - finding the right gift, attending all the festivities, making all the right food - it can ultimately be so tiring and down right overwhelming for even the most well-intentioned. Add the stress of unexpected, unfair difficult day-to-day circumstances amidst all this "hustle and bustle" and it just almost seems too much to ask of anyone.
These last couple of Christmases have certainly taught Michael and I that our problems don't take hiatus for the holidays. Trying to make the best of whatever the situation is draining and by the time Christmas gets here, it's almost as if we're trudging along, just waiting for it to be over. What a horrible way to just 'get through' these days that are supposed to be filled with joy, anticipation, and blessedness!
In the book "Skipping Christmas" (and the movie "Christmas with the Kranks"), the Kranks skip Christmas so they can "get away from it all" and save some money to boot. Now that sounds like a plan I could get on board with. But as it turns out, they end up finding the real blessing of Christmas in their hearts, in giving and receiving love from those around them. This is certainly easier said than done, especially when circumstances present plausible problems.
However, no matter the size of the trouble or the way 'things' always seem to get in the way of finding the heart of Christmas, God has never left us alone and certainly now is the time when He most reveals to us just how near he is. It is in this very special gift of Christmas that God finds a way to warm our hardened hearts and for even just a fleeting moment, gives us the peace, warmth, and contentment we all spend exorbitant amounts of money, time, and energy trying to create every Christmas. But it's always found at the same place, every year - in the quiet surrender of the manger.

MixBook Mix-up

2010-12-15T22:48:00.000-05:00

So ordering Christmas cards is supposed to be a fun, memory-making project, right? Choosing the right photo, the right layout, just the right wording...it can take hours, sometimes days. Michael and I spent just a couple of hours making up a cute little poem about how we failed to send out address changes when we moved in the summer and asking to remember us at our new address - it was cute and festive, and a labor of our love together. I chose a picture from the family shoot and placed my order. I rushed the cards so they would arrive in time to be mailed out so people could receive our card in time to send us theirs. Genius, right? So I watched the tracking as my cards were completed, shipped and then received in Bowling Green. I was to receive them on Monday, and when I got home from work, there was nothing in the storm door, so I knew they hadn't come. After a difficult day, I was a little more upset about this than I probably should have been, but then, out of the darkness, the UPS truck comes barreling down our street and my hope is restored. I meet the guy at the street, get my package and happily bound back to the house with my cards. I get inside, open my package and find this: It's Vivian Mai's annnouncements for her graduation from San Jose State University. 20 of them. And no cards that I ordered. So, as any normal person would do, I immediately get on the phone...oh no, wait, you CAN'T CALL Mixbook because they don't have a customer service number. So I have to CHAT with someone in customer service.
SUPER.
So I finally get in live chat with a representative and explain my dilemma, ask for a refund, and then wait for ten minutes while this rep "checks on the status of the order." Frustration mounting, I simply repeated myself and told him I was no longer interested in my cards as I wouldn't have time to get them mailed out after processing, etc. So, he finally returns and mildly apologizes with nothing to offer me, but did promise my refund. At this point I was satisfied and thought for sure this would be worth laughing at one day.
And that was the next day. Because THIS is what came in the mail on Tuesday: Yep, poor Eric and Stacey's Christmas cards celebrating their wedding. 50 of these.
So I now have 20 graduation announcements, 50 wedding Christmas cards, and no cards of my own. (Not to mention one very angry graduate and a pair of angry newlyweds. MixBook supposedly got their orders worked out and re-shipped. I highly doubt it.)

Then, on Wednesday, guess what showed up?

My cards.

Two sets of them.

These Are The Special Times

2010-12-06T16:29:00.000-05:00

This Sunday afternoon, when we all normally would have been decorating trees and hanging garland, mom insisted we all get together for a family photo shoot for Christmas cards. We all reluctantly obliged, and even mom was a bit hesitant about spending the afternoon taking pictures of ourselves. (Really, no photographer, just self-timers.) Turns out, it was a beautiful day, everyone was in a great mood and it was one the of the best Christmas memories of the season. Funny how things work out.

A Post for Blog's Sake

2010-11-19T17:46:00.000-05:00

I can't say I'm completely satisfied with my blogging efforts this year. I was hoping for more than 1 post in most months, but its a start. So, to quell my ridiculous tendencies, I'm posting simply for the sake of posting something.

I don't have anything in the "About Me" section of my Blogger profile because I don't think anything I come up with is clever enough or informative, so this is to take the place of that. And then maybe this will inspire me to update that section too.

1. I have the best husband in the world. No contest.
2. I think I take blogging a bit too seriously.
3. I think I'm the only person in the world who would rather wear dress pants out to eat than wear jeans.
4. I also think that cheap jeans are more comfortable than expensive ones.
5. This is a little too reminiscent of a Facebook trend that circulated a few years ago.
6. I have a mild obsession with lists.
7. I may have no real children, but I have the best furry ones in America. They are my babies.
8. I live in fear about 90% of the time.
9. I have a constant battle with myself about how I want to spend my time. (Previous blogs will indicate this - do I want to be Martha Stewart or just have all her stuff?)
10. Music is the most incredible of all the arts and I am blessed to have the talent and experiences I have with music.
11. Finding a church home has proven to be one of the most difficult things Michael and I have done as a married couple.
12. Scary movies still give me nightmares.
13. My life is a constant contradiction - one day I can be completely spontaneous and free, the next, I'm planning every move and worrying about every possible consequence.
14. Plaid fabric makes me happy. It always has.
15. I wish I could live with no regrets.
16. The holidays are far too overrated and stressful. (My blog is a nice, quiet place to escape...)
17. I am unashamedly addicted to reality TV and mid-nineties sitcoms.
18. I have extremely high expectations for myself and inadvertently for others as well. This is both a blessing and curse.
19. I love spending time with my husband, just the two of us, at home. That's a vacation in itself.
20. I worry far too much. I'm worrying about the time I wasting making this post about nothing.
21. I am a self-confessed control-freak of sorts. I work on it every day.
22. I want to have lunch with Beth Moore and Sarah Palin. At different times.
23. I am far too blessed to worry and fret.
24. I have an incredible family.
25. I have to get back to whatever I was doing before I decided this was a good idea.

Making Something Out of Nothing

2010-11-11T20:26:00.002-05:00

So, we used to have a big house and I felt this incurable desire to decorate it, literally, from top to bottom for the holidays. After moving from said big house, I was left with what looked like a Christmas decoration hoarding problem that needed intervention. I couldn't part with all this holiday paraphernalia until I had the opportunity to go through it appropriately, decide what I absolutely had to have, and do away with what I couldn't or wouldn't use. Finally this year, after hauling an inexplicable amount of Christmas crap from one town to the next, I have the opportunity to go through what I will be using and what I will not. And it dawned on me to make something from all that I found. Wreaths.
Evidently, at somem point I spent a billion dollars, four thousand trips to Garden Ridge, and decades of collecting, sorting, and packing away enough stuff to decorate the Eastern half of the United States with Christmas ornaments, ribbon, and tulle. So, in my quest for meaning in the "stuff" in my house, I pared down to what means something, then what would be most fun to decorate with, and then I was left with all the rest. And thus was born the idea to put this all the rest to good use on a wreath. And so it began. This is what I've been doing since well before Halloween. It's fun, quick, and even profitable as I've found some outlets for selling these wreaths! I've already made 10 and have enough "stuff" for probably 100 more. Seriously. So while I'll be packing this stuff away (there is no way I will be able to use up, make up, and sell 100 more wreaths by the end of the season) into the attic at least for another year, I have a purpose and an achievable goal with this stuff, unlike most of the other craft-y junk I'm harboring. Take THAT, Martha! Nonetheless, let me know if you want a wreath!

Martha Stewart Stresses Me Out

2010-11-02T15:52:00.000-04:00

So the holidays are quickly approaching. This makes me both excited and overwhelmed. Mainly the latter, and here's why:
You know how around mid-October, TV shows, magazine articles, and internet ads start popping up with 'how-to's' for the PERFECT everything? "How to host a perfect Halloween party"..."How to bake the most perfect Thanksgiving dinner"..."How to have the most perfect-est Christmas EVER." You know the ones I'm talking about. Well, being a perfectionist, I can't just appreciate these shows/articles/etc. for what they are. I have to allow them to penetrate my brain with such force that I feel like the worst hostess, baker, gift-giver, seamstress, and so on, because I don't have the time, money, patience, energy, or desire to BE Martha Stewart for the holidays. But I can't accept that. Because I DO have just enough of all of those things that it drives me crazy that I can't be all of them at once, especially for the holidays. I've purchased books, clipped and saved magazine articles, poured over the internet, and even filled our DVR with Martha's specials about holiday crap to make, do, buy, bake, etc. It's so defeating. Besides, I do have my own ideas, too! By the time I get done reading the book or watching the show or even gathering the supplies I will need for project 'x,' I'm way over my alotted time and already exhausted before I even begin. I do have a "crafty" gene - it definitely runs in my family - and while I enjoy "crafty" things, I often let them overtake me and lose any pleasure in actually doing the craft because of all that is required of it (that darn perfectionism thing again.) Consider this for instance: when watching Martha, do we ever actually see where she gets all of her supplies? No, they just magically appear, ready to use, cut to size, and measured precisely. So we watch her neatly and perfectly, of course, mold together an ornament/gift/decoration in just under 5 minutes flat and think, "okay, sure, I have time to do that" (and then the ubiquitous plug from Martha inherently follows - 'See, anyone can do this at home with just a little {insert common household items we all have lying around} and you're all set.') Well, I'm not fallin' for it anymore, Martha. I'm on to your schemes. I have spent far too long attempting to make all these wonderful handmade gifts and have the most spectacular of parties with homemade feasts for the senses. And while I have been successful at times - making pillows, ornaments, memo boards, and cookie bouquets too cute to mention - the time and energy spent doing so is no longer available - I'm married now with a quite demanding job and my husband would rather spend time with me making a memory than remember how I stewed and fretted over how I'm ever going to pull off "The Most Perfect _______." Am I swearing-off crafts altogether? Absolutely not. But I am putting a stop to my attempts at being Martha Stewart. When I have her budget, facilities, and staff, then we'll see. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the holidays, perfect-ness or not.

5K Birthday

2010-10-25T22:47:00.002-04:00

Monica says it best:
"It's okay, it's all okay...you know why? Because I'm a grown-up...I turned 30 today."

"The One When They All Turn Thirty"

Yep, as of October 21, I'm an official member of the the 30-club. This is not particularly a club I wanted to join, thank-you-very-much, but I suppose it was eventually going to happen. The most difficult part for me was fighting the negativity associated with this birthday by saying to myself, "THIS is 30?" and pondering all that I thought I would have accomplished or experienced or completed by age 30. So instead of focusing on what wasn't in my 20's, I chose to celebrate the good, learn from the mistakes, and bid farewell to anything bad from a very transitional decade in my life. (At some point, I hope to put together a picture-story collection of sorts to forever salute my twenties, but that's another post.) I also felt it necessary to find a way to look forward with positive expectancy to what my 30's would hold. So by the time I pouted and stewed and dealt with the stigma of this birthday, I can honestly say I'm proud to be 30 and truly look forward to my THRILLING THIRTIES!

Much like people start their new year off with resolutions, I wanted to start my 30's out with a bang, and what better way to do that than with the Medical Center 5K! Yes my friends, I ran, er...jog/walked the 5K around downtown Bowling Green on October 23rd with some people from work. To make the event more festive, I wore my "30" crown and it was certainly worth it! I don't think racing will become one of my pastimes, but it was certainly fun for the day and I'm glad to have kicked-off my new decade in such a way. This gives me license to do nothing for New Year's, right?

The Glory of Autumn

2010-09-22T16:15:00.001-04:00

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven... Ecclesiastes 3: 1

I wanted to share how much I love fall and all that comes with it - I am an October baby, I love football, I think fall season marching band will always hold a special place within me, I can't get enough of the breathtaking changing landscape, I love the crunch and resulting aroma of fallen leaves, and nothing beats that first crisp breeze after a long, steamy summer. Merely listing these things did not seem enough for me to truly exemplify what I really experience during this changing season and then I found this little gem of an article with a wonderful story of precisely why fall is uniquely special:

I love Autumn. The sight of colorful countrysides. The smell of burning campfires and roasting marshmallows. The sound of dropping nuts. The taste of crunchy apples and freshly popped popcorn. Hayrides. Pumpkin Farms. The list could go on and on. It all holds a beauty which moves my spirit at a deep, personal level.

As my daughters and I celebrate the changing season, we learn from Him. Our experience of collecting leaves a few years ago highlighted for us the importance of letting go of the old in order to make room for the new.

Outside our home there are a number of trees which change color with the first dipping of temperatures. I'm not sure which one of my girls enjoys trying to find the most colorful leaves more.

Small piles of those leaves often find their way into our home and onto the dining room table. We admire them while arranging them in colorful patterns. One time while we were picking out the prettiest leaf, I overheard this conversation.

"I like this one. It's so beautiful."

"Hmm, that is pretty. How about this one."

A pause followed.

"I wonder why the leaves have to fall. If the trees could only keep their leaves, wouldn't they look nice?"

"Yes and then we wouldn't have those old brown leaves all over the place."

"Yeah, I wish God could have made them stay on the trees."

"But what about Spring?"

Another long pause.

"When Spring comes the new leaves come out. What would happen then?"

Immediately my mind began to picture a tree loaded with colorful leaves meanwhile trying to put out new little green leaves. No, there wasn't room for that. Those new leaves needed room to grow. The old had to be removed.

My mind wandered back to some losses we had experienced. Like leaves they dropped from our lives. And although we accepted the changes, in our humanness we easily would have placed them back in our lives. But life moves forward. Always making room for the new.

Could it be that our Heavenly Father knows our longing to resist change and keep things just the same? Could it also be that He knows how very much we will also appreciate the new growth and fresh opportunities?

Yes, we can trust Him.

So as I watch these leaves drop one by one I will lift my heart in praise to Him. God is only making room for the gifts which He is preparing for us in the future. Spring always comes.

So this year as we experience the glory of Autumn we remember that sometimes it is important to let go in order to make room for the new. We can trust the greatest Lover to care for our families. We can rely upon Him to keep showing us His grace throughout our whole lives.

- Sharon Beth Brani

Buckets of What?

2010-08-17T21:18:00.004-04:00

So today I was driving by a party store and sitting outside there was this huge sale container of plastic pails marked $.25 a piece. I drove by once acknowledging that the price was intriguing and there was surely something for which I could use these plastic pails. They seemed to be such a good size. They did have an ad on them, but there are solutions for that. But I drove on. I have plenty of other pails. Metal pails. Ceramic pails. I surely didn't need to add to the stockpile. So, I drove on.

Then I turned around.

I just kept thinking, with all of my creative talent I could definitely benefit from having these buckets in my Arsenal O' Creativity. I could paint them with that plastic spray paint. I could cover them with paper or fabric. The options were truly endless. And they were such a versatile size. But before I even got out of the car, my conscious kicked in again and I reminded myself of just how much stuff I have obtained from random sales and the dollar aisle at Target. I referred to much of that stuff in my first post (and since I don't know how to reference a link in the blogosphere, you'll just have to track back to read it.) It becomes too much. Too much craft stuff and not enough time. Besides, I have so many other things going on right now with still trying to get settled into our home (there are still boxes that haven't been unpacked, INCLUDING my craft boxes) and adjusting to a new job, a new church, etc. I did not have time to add to my craft to-do list a project with plastic pails. What would I even use them for? It was a good decision. I didn't need the pails.

Then I drove 15 minutes to get home.

And decided I need to go get at least $2 worth of those plastic pails tomorrow.

A Hard Way to Go

2010-07-28T10:20:00.000-04:00

There’s always a simple way. And then there’s a difficult way. Whatever the task, you always have two choices – you can do it the hard way or the easy way. Luckily for me and my totally indecisive manner, this is one choice I don’t have to make. I ALWAYS, purely instinctively, with little to no conscious consideration, choose the hard route. That’s just how it is. It’s as if I must 100% wrestle with an issue/task/challenge until I have knocked the wind out of it, leaving it lifeless, and sometimes, virtually unworthy of consideration, i.e., by the time I’m done grappling with said issue, I can’t even remember why it was issue in the first place. Sounds like a vicious cycle, right? Trust me, it is. Analytical minds have their value, but on daily living kinda basis, sometimes it’s just downright annoying. I often can not make quick decisions, spontaneity is usually non-existent, and even blogging takes a hit as I analyze everything I almost post and often decide it’s not blog-worthy or it would take too long to write or (the dreaded thought) would people even read such a post? Really, my constant wrestling match even applies to “the small stuff.” (Thank you Dr. Carlson, your book did not help me. All “stuff” IS big stuff.) One especially troubling task that should be a relatively simple, daily process often becomes an unbearable, downright painful process that periodically leads to an all-out meltdown: choosing my clothes. Now I know this is in fact an issue for most women, especially during that wonderful, magical time of the month, but I tend to think I may take it a tiny bit far at times. Michael will testify to this. I’ve recently read/heard about experiments that prove that fewer choices can lead to contentment because with only a small selection of items, the mind doesn’t get boggled with other possibilities. It sounds genius to me, and I may have to do some more closet-purging. Allow me to remind you though, that all of my analyzing, pondering, scrutinizing, is mainly a subconscious action.

I was so astounded when we saw Inception – while I’m not speaking of dreams per se, I was thrilled to my core that the power of the subconscious must make sense to other people too! Maybe I’m not crazy after all. So I’ve decided to put a positive spin on it, (while CONSCIOUSLY making more of an effort to NOT dissect every little thing) and title my own condition: we’ll just call it a Carnival of Consideration running wild behind my eyes. At least with a cool, fun name, it won’t be so troubling. Or will it…

Just some news...

2010-06-12T12:13:00.000-04:00

Sheer exhaustion. Cardboard as far as the eye can see. Piles of clothes, dishes, and miscellaneous items that seem to have no relation to one another cluttering every room. The most beautiful new view out a back door you've ever seen. Pure elation.

If you haven't guessed it yet: WE MOVED!

Bowling Green welcomed its newest transplant (Michael) on Saturday May 29th. I, however, have come HOME.

What a journey it has been. A year ago if you had asked me if I thought we would be living in a great home in Alvaton, Kentucky, watching the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen while sitting in our precious wooden swing in the back yard, dreaming of all the fantastic things we're going to do to transform this house and all the wonderful experiences we hope to have in this home, I literally would have insisted you were crazy and then been insulted by such optimism. I stand corrected. God is more amazing than I (we) could ever imagine and we've been blessed with more than we could have ever asked for.

What seemed like a whim during a conversation that took place on Easter Sunday quickly took shape as an answer to prayer that directed us south. And it directed us FAST. We searched for, found, closed on, and moved into a home 70 miles from Elizabethtown - not even kidding - in 6 weeks. (Our loan closing was called "a record-breaker.") It has been incredible to watch God's timing manuever everything perfectly into place. For a control-freak like me, not being able to manipulate every detail was literally painful at times, but in hindsight, I obviously couldn't have orchestrated the events of the last month any better. There: I admit it.

BUT, we didn't do this alone.
We had a great realtor (thank you Sherry Vincent and Amy for the referral)

We had awesome help at the bank (thank you Jamie and Owen)

We had a super moving team (thank you Kentucky Moving and Storage and your Big Red Truck!)

And most importantly, we had unbelievable support from family and friends that kept us going when we thought we were literally trying to do the impossible. Mom and Dad, you are unbelievable - we certainly could not have done this without you and we are forever grateful for your continued help. *Tear*

So back to unpacking, painting, cleaning, and dancing because we're just so darn happy to be here. It hasn't been easy (it still isn't easy) and we still have a long way to go, but trust me when I say that when you think you can't do something, God can. And will.

A New Friend

2010-05-08T18:43:00.005-04:00

Allow me to introduce you to our pal, Change. He has been sticking around our lives for sometime now, and just when I think he's gone, suddenly he reappears. He even comes complete with his own set of cliches: Change is inevitable. Change will come whether we want it to or not. Change is the only thing that is constant.

Blah. Blah. Blah.

Some days Change and I are best friends. I laugh and smile and frolic in the joy that is Change. Some days I wish I could take Change by the scruff of the neck and fling him as far away from me as possible. Whatever the case, Change sticks around and our love-hate relationship is as strong as ever.

Michael and I have prayed at length for our good buddy Change and could not be more thrilled to be in this blessed season of our lives. However, for control-freak, plan-obsessed, OCD people like myself, sometimes a friend called Change is the last thing we could ever need or want, regardless of how wonderful he can be. (BTW, Change is referred to as "he" in this post, as of course, only a man could disrupt life like Change does.) Change is difficult. Change makes you readjust everything you thought you once knew. Change make you downright uncomfortable at times. And more often than not, Change has a way of dragging along his best friend, Patience. Fantastic. Just what I needed. TWO houseguests.

On my Facebook profile, I have a quote that I found not long after Change made a very unexpected visit to Michael and I last year. It's beautiful and true and speaks highly of dear 'ole Change:

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. There is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life. - Alan Cohen

So, if you're reading this I ask that you pray for us and our friends Change and Patience. We haven't gotten along very well lately, but I would like to think our relationship is on the mend and we'll be continuing along our amazing journey very soon. (If you haven't guessed, Michael and I are in the midst of a lot of life changes right now and would appreciate all prayers and support we can get.)

Oh yeah, and I probably should tell you Change (or Patience, I haven't figured out which one yet) has disabled our internet at this time. We are not sure when the service will be restored. I will return to my blogging duties as soon as possible, or whenever Change allows...

Our Furry Family

2010-04-21T20:30:00.004-04:00

It's probably fairly evident that my pets are as important to me as any family member and I probably love them a bit too much at times - vet bills would certainly indicate this - but my animals hold a very special place in my heart and it is more than worth noting on our little family blog.

My Sidekick: Abbie.

Abbie came to live with me on my birthday in 2000, a gift from my mom, who rescued her from the Humane Society. I was just a single gal, finding my way through college and working to pay the bills. She became my fast companion and immediately made her nest as queen-bee. She is often a silent comforter, just appearing at my feet or in my lap when she knows I need soft consolation. She can also be the most vocal of all the feline nation, telling me her every thought and need. She's particularly vocal at night when she's playing with her toys! Not only is she a superior companion, she's also a heck of a trooper - she's moved residences 8 times since I've had her. Yes, 8. For domesticated cats who like to take root in their familiar surroundings, that's about 8 times too many. But every time, she's made her nest and found the best places to make her resting spaces and hiding spots. She shows more resilience than I often do, all the while literally, with the coolness of a cat. I love her and she's the best gift I've ever received. After celebrating her 10th birthday this year, I'm even more grateful for every day I have with her.

Our "First-born": Princess Phoebe

When Michael and I first got married, we decided we wouldn't add to our animal brood during the first year, figuring the adjustment would be enough without the stress of a puppy. That lasted about 3 months, and I was determined to find a shih-tzu baby. I found a family breeder in Edmonson County that only bred one litter at a time and make sure all the puppies would go to a good home. I had a good feeling about this place, and the Sunday afternoon before Halloween, we drove to the middle of nowhere to a beautiful home all a bustle with 5 new baby shih-tzus. We were immediately drawn to the runt, our baby girl, and started bonding with her as we chatted with the family. There were three resident shih-tzus, the momma and daddy of the litter, and an uncle (even dog families have crazy uncles!) The momma's name was Monica. Wierd name for a dog, I thought, but didn't consider it much until they told us the daddy's name was Joey. Okay, so what was the uncle dog's name? Chandler. Ironic? Sure. Coincidence? Absolutely not. The family I had "found" in the classifieds were in fact Friends fanatics, just like yours truly. Our baby girl had been nick-named Princess, so Princess Phoebe only seemed too perfect. It was meant to be. But oh, those first few days were doozies as our new baby missed her big family and cried until she made herself hoarse the first few nights. She finally adjusted and became a regular household personality. Spoiled rotten, she is still our first-born and very much an alpha-female which ultimately led to her being a daddy's girl. (They're both hot-natured too, so it was good that she didn't require snuggling.) She's our "Friends" blessing and a wonderful, well-trained and well-behaved dog that must sleep with her own 'baby' (a toy) every night.

Our Eternal Baby: Dozer Davidson.

On a totally unexpected venture to a farm in Hodgenville, our sweet baby Dozer joined our family. He peered out from his outdoor house with the biggest brown eyes and a saggy belly and it was love at first sight for us. His transition to our home was much easier and he crate-trained well. He was our littlest baby for a while, but then all of a sudden, the hound in him emerged and he's the leader of the pack now, in stature that is. He's still very much a baby, especially his momma's baby. Michael had always wanted a beagle, and he was supposed to be Michael's partner in crime, riding with him to and from job sites in his construction truck (hence the name Dozer) but it didn't quite work out that way as he IS a snuggler and has a built-in heater that Michael couldn't tolerate on a nightly basis, so he became my buddy and I can't explain how attached I am to this little dog! He loves me to the moon and back and is my shadow at home. He's a great dog, and is really showing a lot of maturity lately (it was touch-and-go there for awhile) but still has the occasional howling fit. Okay, frequent howling fit, but its better! Oh, and don't even think about stealing his food!

And last but not least, we said good-bye to our Comedian, Little Bit, in February this year. He was a constant humor and a little trooper himself. He used all of his nine lives to the fullest and he is missed. He was my sweet boy with a fiesty streak that was hiding under a laundry basket at my brother's house after being brought in as a stray. May he rest in peace in kitty heaven.

It's All Blue

2010-03-25T21:48:00.005-04:00

I was going to do better in March. I was going to update my blog regularly, or at least more regularly than was done in February. So much for that. As a result of not blogging as much as really is essential to a healthy blog, I have a very healthy list of blog topics that I will be consulting very soon. The blog posts to follow will be phenomenal. I'm just sure of it. In the meantime, I must (quickly) show that I bleed blue. Very quickly.

I have already immensely enjoyed the NCAA tournament. Another UK win would make it even more enjoyable. Yes, I am a true blue Kentucky fan. I did not sell or give away all of my UK garb when they were not winning - I donned them proudly, knowing that the Wildcats are the best there is, even when they were on the losing end of things. I am not just a UK fan because they are just shy of perfect this year. I did not abondon my fearless Wildcats when the less-than-par coaches were not doing justice to a grand basketball program. I am ALWAYS a UK fan. I never had a choice. I didn't know schools had colors other than blue and white until I was nearly 7 or 8 years old. My dad was also tried and true blue. I had Wildcat cheerleader barbie dolls and at least some point, all of the cars I have driven have sported a "K" license plate. This year is especially fun with the antics of John Wall and Demarcus Cousins, Patrick Patterson and underdog Darius Miller. Coach Cal really is a great coach - look at how he's turned around several players from the dark times of Billy. It's just exciting. I can hardly type. I must stay hydrated as my dear Cats are defending the "smart boys" from Cornell. Andy Bernard, your BIG RED BEAR is going DOWN!

A Fond Farewell

2010-02-28T22:00:00.003-05:00

Is there anything more spirit-rousing and heart-warming than the Olympics? Two weeks filled with peaceful competition among warring nations. Countless moments of dreams reaching fulfillment and hearts breaking all at the same time. It's a time when moguls, slalom, lutz, and twizzle become part of our everyday vernacular, at least for the winter variety. And Bob Costas comes out of sports-caster hiding to deliver impeccable announcing sprinkled with hints of sarcasm, condolence, or humor whenever necessary. Not being much of an athelete myself (but being raised by one of the best) I can certainly appreciate the perseverance, endurance, and artistry required by all of the athletes and I'm always in awe of their accomplishments. Michael constantly commented on "those skiers that go uphill", referring of course to the long distance cross country skiing that seemed to never end. But all of the athletes, even the 'curlers' with their brooms amaze me and a small part of me always wishes I had such tenacity. Four years ago, I remember sitting in our tiny living room of our first home just seven months after getting married and watching our first Olympics together and being somewhat disappointed with the events in Torino. The American fleet of athletes was not everything it was cracked up to be (poor Bode), we were uncomfortable with the Italian surroundings, and worst of all, Michelle Kwan was forced to withdraw from the women's figure skating competition due to injury. While I don't know the statistics surrounding the 2006 Winter Olympics, I don't remember being as enthralled with each and every moment as I was this year. I watched EVERYTHING. Snowboarding, freestyle skiing, ice skating, speed skating, ski jumping, long distance skiing - you name it, I watched it when I could. I held my breath when Evan and Apolo skated. I yelled and screamed along with the coaches during the aerials and snowboard half-pipe. I cried every time Joannie Rochette was on the screen. And now it's over. So sad. Even with all of the negative press at the opening of the games, it turned out to be one of the best. I'm so glad that my love for the winter Olympics returned and I will anxiously await 2014. Thank you and goodnight Bob Costas - you may return to hiding now. We'll call you a few weeks before the summer Olympics in 2012.

Where Did February Go?

2010-02-23T21:49:00.010-05:00

Good grief! I've lost a whole month! I feel a hundred years old saying this, but I do not know where the time has gone - well, I kinda do. Dear blog, it's time to play catch-up.

First, it seems odd that I'm writing to...no one. After my first few posts, I thought 'blogging' would come more naturally as more and more people would 'follow' and I would feel warranted in my need to share my thoughts with the 'world.' (Imagine many physical 'air quotes' if you will.) I would feel obligated to my devoted readers to continue posting, all the while gaining momentum for actually being a 'heard' individual in this world, and well, that hasn't really happened. I have to verbally tell my husband that I've just written a post on my blog so he will diligently go check it (or just walk 5 steps and read what's on my screen) since he doesn't have a blog of his own. And for the other four followers out there - thank you for your time. It means a lot and I hope you faithful few will continue to indulge me. I enjoy it, and whether anyone reads them or not, "I have ideas."

February 2009 changed our lives forever, but Michael and I approached the year mark of those profound changes with pure joy that we had made it through the last year. We renewed our hope for positive growth and looked forward with confidence. As faithful as He promises, God showed up again and we have been blessed with some awesome, good changes this February: On Saturday, February 13th, Michael and I took a trip to Bowling Green so he could take the written exam as the first step toward becoming a Bowling Green Police Officer. He has been studying and preparing for this for some time, but this was the first time taking an exam like this and needless to say, he was nervous. As we pulled into the parking lot at Greenwood High School, nervous became an understatement and I couldn't help but mutter a quiet "oh..." as we scanned the full parking lot with some 30 minutes left until test time. As we approached the door, I playfully asked if he wanted me to go in with him, which made us both laugh and helped ease some of the mounting pressure. I kissed him good-bye and wished him luck and couldn't help but tear-up as he boldy walked in, seemingly unphased by the nerves. Precious. Then it was just time to wait. Luckily, my dear, dear friend Amy was willing to baby-sit me during my down time. After some shopping and visiting, it was time for me to return to Greenwood to await the results. I got there with plenty of time to spare and started to watch people trickle out of the building, slowly. As always, I came prepared and pulled out some reading material, but I couldn't help but look up to see who was coming out next. 30 minutes. An hour. I waited. As a few more people started out of the building, I began to notice that every now and then there would be a happy test-taker exiting the building bearing a pink card and it dawned on me that this must be the sign of a passing score, and thus the ticket to take the psychological exam later in the day. I started very excitedly watching for this American Idol-esque 'golden ticket' just to kill time, and finally after ninety minutes of waiting, I recieved the best text message to date: "I PASSED...SEE YOU SOON!" After another HOUR OF WAITING (for fingerprinting I learned later) I finally saw my sweet smiling husband and his pink card. What a feeling! I have never been more proud to be his wife then I was at that moment! Even though this was just the first of many steps yet to come, it was a milestone and a much-needed boost for Michael's confidence. Hallelujah! The rest has yet to be determined, but I will update as we approach each step!

As a side note, with all of the excitement of the day before Valentine's Day, we decided to play it low-key for the Hallmark Holiday this year. I came across an ad and coupon one day for a beautiful bouquet of stargazer lillies and roses (reminiscent of the bouquet Michael got for me our first Valentine's Day) and posted it on the fridge. I had earlier come across an ad for a Rocky Balboa edition motorcycle, which I also posted on the refrigerator as a joke since Michael does happen to love motorcycles and can reference a Rocky movie for just about any situation. Knowing that I would never, ever waste money on such a ridiculous trinket and flowers would just end up dying (and I never throw them out at an appropriate time), we decided we would just gaze at our lovely ads, tell each other how much we mean to one another, and leave it at that. Best Valentine's Day yet.

Puxsatawney Phil and a Love Story

2010-02-02T21:26:00.004-05:00

He's a cute little fella...

I suppose the recipe calls for six more weeks of winter...whatever that means. Doesn't spring usually begin around the middle of March anyway? That's what I keep reminding myself for now, instead of being depressed that the cold temperatures, gloomy days, and slick roads are all we have to look forward to for the next six weeks. I usually don't mind winter - fun coats and scarves, boots and puffy socks - but I'm over it. I've cycled through all of my sweaters more than once. I'm ready to part with my coats and scarves (as nice as they are). I would like to go home while there's still daylight. Michael and I really need to get over these colds. And snow days are not nearly as much fun when you have to get up an hour earlier just to make sure you make it to work on time and worry about your husband getting to and from Louisville safely. It's been pretty, I've enjoyed what I could, and I'm certain our neighbors are definitely ready for our "winter" decorations to be put away. Yes, we're those people. So bring on spring!

Michael has been home a lot more lately thanks to a shifting schedule. It's been wonderful. I have written very little in this blog about what a wonderful husband I have, and it's long overdue. I can't speak highly enough of him. He's a guy's guy and a hopeful romantic all rolled into one. He loves the Lord, loves me, and loves our furbabies as much as I do. Tomorrow marks the five year anniversary of the day we met. We are a Match.com success story, just like in the commercials. I had given up on finding "the one" and had little hope in this "e-match-harmony thing" as dad called it. In fact, I had a couple of bad experiences with it and didn't even respond to Michael when he first emailed me. He persisted. And by mid-January we were talking and decided to meet at Smokey Bones in Bowling Green. (So romantic, right? I'm telling you - I wasn't looking for anything more than a friend. A BBQ joint was the perfect plot.) God had other plans. My roommate and her boyfriend went with me that night to meet him (for safety reasons) and she tells it best: she said I was chattering along, anxiously waiting for Michael and then I stopped dead in my tracks and just smiled. Michael had just walked in - I can honestly say that it was love at first sight. Right there admidst all the BBQ and basketball games. I'll never forget it. He won't either. I can't believe that was 5 years ago! It's been a 'slumber party' ever since.

"It says "crazy" here on your chart..."

2010-01-27T17:44:00.008-05:00

I am so sick. Sick, literally, and even more sick of those that call themselves doctors, nurse practitioners, physician's assistants, etc. I have not been sick in a year - with the exception of woman's issues and migraines - I have not been to the doctor since exactly this time last year (during the ice storm) to be diagnosed with all but pneumonia.(And it took TWO trips to finally get some help - more on that in a minute...) And here we are again. I would like to humor myself to think I know a little bit more than the average bear when it comes to anything that ails the human body because I've had a lot of them. I was a relatively sick little child and I was fortunate to have a great doc that explained everything when I would go see him growing up. I know how a cold differs from a sinus infection because of his highly sophisticated narrative of each. I know the difference in a viral and a bacterial infection. I know what happens to the blood vessels in my brain when I have a migraine because of his simple yet technical diagrams. I know I am 95% more likely to get an ear infection than most people because my tonsils stay 95% more inflamed than most. In so many words, I'm relatively well-versed in medicinal knowlege, at least for my own body. Since moving from Glasgow, I am not able to visit afore-mentioned doctor for obvious reasons. I didn't have much trouble adjusting to other doctors while I was in Bowling Green, but since moving to Elizabethtown, I've literally had nothing but trouble.
I have learned that I am hyper-sensitive to barometric changes, weather fluxuations, and temperature variations. Such weather phenomenons can trigger migraines, endless sinus and allergy problems, mood swings, and even affect my lovely battle with IBS. I've learned to deal. I have plenty of homeopathic, prescription and over the counter remedies to help just about any ailment, so I've got my bag of tricks ready for whatever hits, for whatever reason, but especially when the weather changes. I know my body very well and listen to what it tells me. I know to rest when the seasons change. I know to drink more than enough fluids to stay hydrated during weather episodes to help prevent anything from getting clogged, inflamed, or blocked. And I know to move around enough to get my blood flowing and promote my body's natural health defenses. I am a great hand-washer. All in all, I know what I need to do to stay healthy and usually do a darn good job of it. But when I need help, I need help and I need it fast. Elizabethtown health care providers just don't get this. They don't understand that I know what I'm doing - that it's my body and I take pride in it, flaws and all. That it takes a lot for me to even GO to the doctor for the risk of catching something worse while in the waiting room. That when I begin showing signs of a real illness, I'm going to need help fast. They just don't get it. Case in point: Right after Michael and I got married, I came down with a sinus infection, went to the doctor after 4 days of self treatment, and the doctor was already writing a prescription while he walked into the room. Had Michael not been with me, he wouldn't have believed me. He didn't examine me. He didn't ask me any questions. Just handed me the slip and left. Shockingly, a week later, I was forced to go to an urgent clinic for diagnosis of a terrible sinus infection, double ear infection AND bronchitis. Being the nosy posy I am, I decided I would ask if this could have been prevented and this doc said, "absolutely - if you had been given a steriod shot and the correct prescription." SHOCKING. Now hear this: this has happened to me 7 more times in the last five years; 5 times with upper respiratory issues, 2 times with kidney/bladder issues. I'm not even kidding. I have tried different doctors, with hope that this craziness would end. I've tried naturalists, nurse practitioners (I had good luck with them in BG), and specialists. Nothing. They all do the same thing, and I wind up on the phone crying to my mother a day or two later because I'm still sick and no one will help me and I end up either having to trekk to Glasgow to see the only real doctor still alive or I go to the hospital and wait 17 hours to at least get some decent drugs. And it's happening AGAIN.
It doesn't take a genius to notice the major changes in the weather over the last couple of weeks. Well, this past weekend, I noticed I was little more phlegm-y than usual so I rested, took a few more vitamins, and hoped for the best. Monday I lost my voice, but still didn't feel terrible and had no temp, so I kept truckin'. Tuesday morning I had NO voice, started feeling run down, so I came home from work to rest, figuring I had a cold (virus) that had settled in my throat and I just needed to give my body time to heal. No dice. By Tues. night, I was running a low temp and feeling pretty rotten, even with all the phlegm-fighting drugs I had been using. Wednesday when I called into work, I was instructed to go to the doctor (you know, because it is not allowed to miss work just to rest or when you're contagious with a nasty cough...) So, like a good little employee, I haul off to the doctor in 20degree weather just to be told I have a cold virus causing pharyngitis, to take Advil and to keep taking Mucinex-D (even though it's clearly not doing it's job, a topic that was discussed at the beginning of the visit) and (here's the kicker) to come back on Monday if I didn't feel better by the weekend. I even asked about getting a shot, which got me this response: "If I felt like you needed a shot, I would give you one. You don't need it." Nice. Intimidation achieved, Ms. Physician's Assistant, you're clearly the boss. It gets better. I was released to go back to work TODAY (again, contagious) and the note that I got has the wrong name - the check-out lady wrote the PA's name as the patient name. Really? Did I come to the Twilight Zone society or a doctor's office...
So here I sit tonight, completely unable to breathe from my nose, with a horrible sore throat and excrutiatingly painful cough, sick to my stomach from all the draining phlegm (sorry, gross) and I'm expected back at work tomorrow. Great.
Does all of this seem ridiculous to anyone else??? I'm so fed up! Because I'm a nice person and do respect those who are there to "take care of the sick" I can't just walk in to every appointment and be like, "Look, I'm not doing this run around again. Here's what I've been doing that isn't working, here's what YOU need to do, and we'll all be happy." I just can't do that. But I'm getting close. I can't afford two copays every time I get sick. I can't afford to continually buy useless meds, just to have to buy more meds when I finally get a valid diagnosis. I can't continue to miss several days of work when I'm just trying to get better!!! Why is this so hard to understand?!
Forgive my rantings - but this has gone too far. I'm not a stupid person, even though out of respect, I play the idiot at my doctor's visits. I just don't know what to do. I feel like Elaine on that episode of Seinfeld when she keeps going from doctor to doctor and they all write "Crazy" at the top of her chart. That's me. Crazy Elaine.

Praising God

2010-01-15T20:20:00.013-05:00

What a week it's been! And I say that in a much different way than I was saying it last week...
First, I must give God the glory for the wonderful God He is and that He chose to love me. I choke each time I think of how wonderfully He has blessed Michael and I through so much - big and small, tangible and intangible. We are such undeserving creatures and I am humbled at the very thought that He loves us enough to care about our most minute worries and fears along with the mountainous trials and unanswered questions that come our way. The Christian band Kutless has a song called "That's What Faith Can Do" and it speaks volumes as to what my heart feels. Here are some of the lyrics:

Everybody falls sometimes
Gotta find the strength to rise
From the ashes and make a new beginning
Anyone can feel the ache
You think it’s more than you can take
But you are stronger, stronger than you know
Don’t you give up now
The sun will soon be shining
You gotta face the clouds
To find the silver lining

I’ve seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn’t ever end
Even when the sky is falling
And I’ve seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers get answered
Broken hearts become brand new
That’s what faith can do

It doesn’t matter what you’ve heard
Impossible is not a word
It’s just a reason for someone not to try
Everybody’s scared to death
When they decide to take that step
Out on the water
It’ll be alright
Life is so much more
Than what your eyes are seeing
You will find your way
If you keep believing

It's an incredible song, so if you get the chance, listen to it! I hope you're as moved by it as I am! Praise the Lord!

Secondly, I love it when I am witness to unexpected kindness. I was at the grocery yesterday, for TWO hours - allow me to explain the reason behind a 2 hour grocery trip when it's just me and Michael I'm shopping for: Our Kroger is being remodeled and everything has been moved; I kept getting phone calls; there are a ton of 10-for-10 sales going on; and I apparently thought I was shopping for the Apocalypse that would leave me with the ability to microwave. That being said, I was mentally and physically exhausted by the time I went to checkout. Of course, there is only one non-express lane open, so I manhandle my cart into line and rummage through my coupons to find the ones I need. Just as the couple in front of me was finishing up, I realized I needed TWO bottles of shampoo to get my $2 discount (thus getting one bottle for $.29). I knew I didn't have time to go get the other bottle, and I was by myself, so I didn't have anyone to watch my cart. And the coupon expired the next day. Oh well. I decided I didn't need a back-up shampoo anyway. Then I overheard the woman in line in front of me say, "Oh, I think it's just down there...and Fluffy is all out..." as she was peering down an aisle while the rest of her groceries were ringing up. I quickly picked up on the potential to do something nice AND get what I needed, so I asked what she needed and told her that if she watched my cart, I would go get her cat food...and my shampoo. She happily agreed and I bolted. Unfortunately, the cat food aisle and shampoo aisle are not super close, but I made good time. As I rounded the corner to our checkout lane, I noticed that she had already unloaded 1/3 of my groceries onto the still conveyor belt in the groups I had placed them in my cart!!! I couldn't believe it. I graciously handed her the cat food, she paid, and she and her husband wished me well as they left. WOW! I could have hugged her! I've lived in E-town for almost 5 years now and I would have to say that definitely makes my top 10 of the nicest things that have happened to me here. Good Etown Lady, if you're out there, thank you for making my night! She was probably from Rineyville.

I hope and pray that each of you has a wonderful long weekend! A wish for a special Happy 6th Birthday tomorrow to my sweet niece, Graycen Belle! Our thoughts and prayers to those affected by the Haitian earthquake. God Bless!

Resilience

2010-01-06T20:48:00.007-05:00

Deuteronomy 31:8 - The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged.

It is less than a week into this new year - you know, the one full of promise and hope and light - and already discouragement and difficulty reign supreme. Hope and promise apparently are not synonyms for easy. It's not really that I expected the simple rolling of a date over to the next two digits would have insurmountable repercussions and reverse the past or even change current circumstances. A break sure would be nice though. Sometimes that's not what we need. God meticulously plans out how we are each to be positioned in our circumstances and it is up to us to determine how we adjust. This is the very lesson we're in the middle of learning.
With all of the messes that have already crept up, I've noticed myself thinking, "a year ago, this would have been the end of the world to me" and now, I deal with whatever it is, pray, and move on. (Most of the time.) I still have a tendency to want to wallow, to dwell. But with each issue, it does get easier to move on and head straight into whatever the next mess is, somehow hopeful that it will get better. I always joke with Michael that I must be crazy for thinking in such a way - that God can (and will) do what he promises us which is to never forsake us. That's one great promise. I personally have always felt unworthy of such promises, but that's another blog post. For now, I'm going to claim these promises and wait for better days. Beth Moore says in her book, Believing God:

"I'm convinced that most of us more readily accept the fact that God is who He says He is than we believe He can do what He says He can do. We less quickly assume that God is able - or perhaps more pointedly, that He is willing - to do what He says. Ironically, however, God can do what He says He can do precisely because He is who He says He is."

That's a mouthful, but it's true. I've never had trouble believing WHO God is, but that He will do what He says He will do, yet I have been proven this very point over and over again, and yet I still worry, question, and doubt. Shame on me. By now, I know better and need to work harder at being the believer in the God that He says He is. I need to work A LOT harder. In the meantime though, God has given us the gift of resilience. I want to walk away from each trial, large and small, with a little bit of resilience that causes me to ask myself, 'how did I get through that?' There's only one answer - because God is the God He says He is.

A New Year

2010-01-01T21:41:00.000-05:00

Ahh, the new beginning of a new year. It's like getting a make-over - a new opportunity to do well. The possibilities of a new year are endless and that is always invigorating. I'm sure it comes as no surprise that Michael and I are especially anticipatory of 2010 and beyond, but even with the roller coaster that 2009 had in store for us, we can name many wonderful blessings from 2009. Because of those blessings, we excitedly look forward and hope for better days ahead. Always the realist, I continually tell myself that there will always be difficult days but Michael is quick to remind me that we're much more prepared for such days than we've ever been before. That's the truth!
So, often with a new year come resolutions. Being a natural list-maker, I used to look at resolutions as an easy excuse to make an exhaustive list of everything I ever wanted to change about myself. You can imagine the disappointment when I couldn't hang on to all 72 points by February, thus a few years ago, I abandoned the idea altogether. However, after this year I felt I had some obligation to write down a short-list of things I have learned to manage in dealing with the events of 2009, not as resolutions persay, but more as a souvenir-type list of things I would like to continue on. Each one of these items came to me one busy day at work when I had to excuse myself to the bathroom just to jot them down!

Be diligent in Bible study. This will always give answers.
Pray fervently. Knit each day in prayer.
Be more thoughtful in deed. Build an ARK.
Memorize scripture. This is your daily food.
Be intimately in love with Michael. Show him every day.
Worry less. It's not worth it.
Be more social. You're a fun gal!
Journal/blog/talk it out. Don't stew.
Be less concerned with what others think. They don't care what you think.
Adopt the "less is more" and "perfectly imperfect" attitudes. It's worth it.
Be emotionally connected and not emotionally charged. There's a difference.
Respect your parents, then leave it at that. You're ultmiately responsible for your life.
Be active, and rest. Both are equally valuable.
Focus on the good, not the potential for bad. You're inviting trouble by foreboding.
Be assertive, not aggressive. You can do this.
Relish in "failure." Learn from it, then move on, smiling.
Be content. Let the little ones go.
Laugh at yourself. It relieves a lot of unnecessary stress.
Be CHANGED. This IS your next 30 years.

Sure, the list is long enough, but it's not a daily tally of tasks to complete that could soon become something else I can't finish: Reminders, not resolutions. The latter will be accomplished through daily to-do lists anyway!

One last accolade to wish everyone the best 2010 possible and that you may find peace, joy, and love all around you!

Epiphanies

2009-12-31T20:23:00.001-05:00

Maybe it's because I'm approaching 30. Perhaps it's because this year has been particularly challenging (to say the least), and in turn, have learned so much about myself, God's faithfulness, and true love. Or, possibly I'm just so intrigued and inspired that the excess thoughts have overflowed in to an online pseudo-diary to be shared. Whatever the reason, welcome to my blog.
For the past few years, I've checked in on some friends blogs about their pregnancies and then their babies, and immediately put it on my "when I get pregnant" list of to-dos (kinda like when you walk past the baby aisle at the grocery and wonder when you'll ever get to shop there.) Of all the items on said list, the 'baby blog' was the thing I looked forward to the most. Now before anyone goes and gets excited, I'm NOT pregnant - although your prayers for such would be appreciated - but rather after further introspection on the topic of blogging, I suddenly realized I didn't have to wait to be pregnant to have a blog. It's not like some unsaid rite of passage that one must have some exciting news or life-altering event in order to be allowed to blog. However, the truth is, Michael and I have been through some pretty life-altering changes that are certainly worthy of citing to those who care to read it. I hope to make my blog a happy place: a funny, random, veritable collection of thoughts that someone other than myself can possibly find interesting or entertaining - sans bun in the oven. Besides, I thought it might be a good idea to get people used to the idea that I have a blog and allow them to make it a part of their internet cruising routine so that when news DOES happen, they'll be the first to know. Justification achieved.

Aside from my love of writing, I also have been inspired to start a blog thanks to the movie "Julie and Julia." I didn't really think I would like this movie as I have have no real attachment to cooking (baking is my forte, not cooking) and I can't recall ever having watched Julia Child's cooking show. I just knew she was the tall, strange-talking Paula Deen of her day. Why would I want to spend 2 hours watching a movie about something that I really couldn't relate to? Well, the other night as Michael and I were perusing the OnDemand options, the trailer for this movie came on. I watched as the story unfolded a bit when it became clear that the movie wasn't solely about Julia Child, but also this Julie person who has written a book about her own blog project and I realized just how much I related to this character and story. I don't want to review the whole movie here, but just a little insight: Amy Adams' character Julie is a smart, attractive almost 30-year-old struggling to find her place in the world as her uber-successful friends seem to have it all handed to them on a silver platter and she's left wondering what she did wrong and why she's been dealt the hand she holds. Uh, YEAH, I can relate. I couldn't get more than a few minutes into a scene until I was in hysterics laughing at how I've experienced so many of the very things she's talking about. With every step she takes, there are two pitfalls to match it. With every brilliant idea she has, someone else either slaps a "been there, done that" cliche on it or has thought it better. But what really got me is when she deems that she must set a deadline because she never finishes anything - WOW. With the exception of graduating from college (which was like dragging a dead cow through molasses) I, too, have truly never finished anything. I have 12 totes of craft crap that I have lugged to at least 5 different residences in the last 10 years simply because "I'm going to finish all those scrapbooks one day" and will still need every last bit of scrapbooking paraphernalia in order to do it. I certainly wouldn't want to have to purchase all that stuff again when I did finally find time to complete those books, much less be able to afford it all again. Then there's all the crafts I'm going to complete for gifts: hand-made ornament makings, pillow making supplies, cross-stitching garb...the list is endless. And now, most recently I'm harboring 5 or 6 boxes of Uppercase Living mess that is intended for running this at-home sales business. Yeah right. Like that's what I want to do when I get home - run a business. It sounds good and all of these things factor into my ideal of a woman who does it all and has it all together, but reality sometimes just doesn't cooperate. Maybe if I wasn't a neat/clean freak or if I didn't watch TV EVER, I could devote my time to finishing a project once I start it. Who knows. To say the least, I was so comforted to know that there really is someone out there (probably LOTS of somebodies out there) who think that by hanging on for dear life to something that isn't finished means it's still in progress. Not so much. Thank you Julie for revealing so much about myself through your book, and now this movie. I'm now plotting deadlines for all unfinished projects and planning for what I'll do with all the closet space I'm going to gain...
Luckily this blog is an ongoing project that doesn't need a deadline - I just hope it doesn't turn out like the journal you get in fifth grade and purpose to 'write in it every day' and after about a week, it's never touched again. (I have a lot of those I'm hanging on to as well.) Regardless, I hope to consistently add posts whenever something intrigues me, whether people want to read it or not. "I have thoughts." That's all I need.